


The Checklist

by AnnetheCatDetective



Series: sub Cecil [2]
Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Aftercare, BDSM, Cecil is Human, D/s, Dom Carlos, M/M, No Tentacles, Sub Cecil, Vignettes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-29
Updated: 2014-04-06
Packaged: 2017-12-30 20:25:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 26,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1023011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnetheCatDetective/pseuds/AnnetheCatDetective
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>These chapters do not go in chronological order, but in alphabetical, and some will take place during the events of 'The Only Thing I Want To Be (is Yours)', some after. </p><p>No real plot, just kink exploration and cuddliness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Asphyxiation

"I understand if you don't want to." Cecil promises, his lips traveling up Carlos' jaw. "I love you."

"I know... and I love you. I want to give you what you want, I just... this is a little outside my depth. This is-- Well, dangerous."

Carlos closes his hand gently around the side of Cecil's neck, feeling the soft band of suede and Cecil's heated skin. So much warmer than Cecil's hands. Cecil's throat is too delicate, too sensitive, and he doesn't know how to bear the thought of squeezing, not around the front of it, not to cut off his air. 

But... it is hard to refuse Cecil outright, over the things he's curious to try, and he's kept putting this one off... 

"Tell me about why you're interested in trying this." He whispers. "Tell me more. Help me understand. Is this a thing you need, or just a thing you like to think about some of the time?"

"I want... I want you to be in control. Even of my very breath..." Cecil sighs, sways into every touch that Carlos grants him with eyes closed. It makes it easier to talk sometimes, to confess to the darker and dirtier corners of himself. All he needs to do is close his eyes and let the nearness and the touch reassure him. "I want to feel the tightness of the air not coming, like holding your breath underwater, I want to feel you give it back to me."

"I'm not ready for that." Carlos' voice trembles, bearing the weight of disappointment-- disappointment for Cecil, which he hates. When Cecil makes himself so vulnerable, so open, when he makes himself ask for something difficult, it hurts not to give it. He wishes that he could, but he knows he is absolutely not ready to do something that could be this kind of dangerous. 

"That's okay. I-- I didn't expect--"

"Cecil..." He presses a kiss to one temple, hushing the other man gently. "What if we play a little game, hm? What if we pretend? I know it isn't what you want, but... for right now, the best I can do is a compromise. Do you think you could be happy with that?"

"Well, I haven't heard the compromise yet..." Cecil pulls back to grin at him, dazed. It's a look that always sets Carlos' heart soaring, the one that telegraphs such a clear and delighted surprise at his luck in having Carlos. "But I think so, yes."

"This is as hard as I can go..." He lets his hand slide around, to the front of Cecil's throat, the collar nudged up slightly. The skin is so hot and so soft under Carlos' hand, and he can feel the flutter of Cecil's pulse race under his touch, can feel Cecil's chest rise up with every breath. He can feel the moan that he barely hears buzz beneath that skin. "I'm not going to squeeze down... but I'm going to put my hand right here, do you like that?"

"Yes, Carlos."

"And I'm going to tell you to hold your breath, until you can't help it... when you really, really can't help it, when you need to gasp for it, that's okay. You're not going to be punished when you do. But..." He smiles wickedly, and feels the response in Cecil's pulse. "I am going to time you. I'm going to count the seconds that you can spend holding your breath just because I say so. And when you can't take it any more, my hand is right here, I'm going to feel you gulp down air, I'm going to feel you desperate. Does that sound okay? If I don't squeeze down for real?"

Cecil nods, and they move together, to lay Cecil out flat on his back, and Carlos kneels beside him on the bed, with one hand resting at his throat and the other working at his cock. 

"Breathe for now." He orders. "Until I tell you to hold. Or it won't count. And you want it to count, don't you, baby? You want me to tell you how good you did. The average, Cecil... is thirty seconds."

Cecil whimpers, hips rolling up, and Carlos is so smart, pulling trivia like that out at a time like this, when Cecil can barely think because he has that hand at his throat, careful, and a tighter grip at his cock.

"Of course, I don't expect that out of you today... not under these circumstances. But we can establish a baseline for you later." Carlos purrs. "I expect you'll last... a little less, while I'm doing my best to make you come. That's okay. I want you to be desperate for me. I want you to need it... and I want you to get what you really need."

"Thank you, Carlos..." Cecil whimpers again, and moans, and sounds distressed and elated all at once with each little noise that Carlos wrings out of him. 

"And you'll get a nice reward after... for being good for me. How nice depends on how well you do, of course... I wouldn't want to spoil you and let you think you don't need to try for me."

"N-never!"

Carlos chuckles, and leans in to kiss Cecil's forehead. "Oh, shh, baby... I know, I know you won't... You'll always try your best for me, won't you? I know that, I know..." He soothes. "I know. That's what makes you so good, isn't it? You're always so eager to try for me. You like making your Carlos happy, don't you, baby? And you'd do anything I asked you to..."

"Yes!"

"Good." He grins, taking in the picture Cecil makes, the throat under his hand, the cock in his fist starting to leak already, the pupils blown so wide... So desperate. 

Cecil lasts as long as anyone, making love on even ground. Long enough that Carlos has wound up with sore spots. With a familiar scene or purposeful teasing-out, he lasts even when the ground is not so even between them. But for a new game, Cecil is... 

Responsive. 

Carlos adores it. He could stretch things out if he tried, has done, but he loves knowing that he's found a new shortcut through everything, mental and physical, as if he can tap directly into the pleasure center of Cecil's brain. And, he has to admit, he likes feeling like a sex god every once in a while, when Cecil comes fast in his hand or his mouth and blushes over how quick, how teenaged he feels over the speed of an orgasm. 

He adores calculating the time it will take for Cecil to come, observing all the signs, mentally arranging them, and then coaxing Cecil to fall apart, as slow or as fast as Carlos decides he should. 

"Hold." He orders, letting his fingertips press just so, just gently, against the side of Cecil's neck as a prompt. 

It's sixteen seconds of Cecil's held breath and Carlos' hand moving over his cock with just the right little twist to each stroke, before Cecil is gasping and gulping and coming and sobbing. Red-faced, with tears and saliva and a nose just starting to run, and he has never been more beautiful. 

"Good." Carlos kisses his forehead again, before grabbing for a handful of tissues. "You're so good, baby... Sixteen seconds, that's good."

Cecil beams up at him, watery but proud, and smiles through the cleanup-- tissues first, and Cecil blushes and starts to protest having his nose wiped for him, but Carlos only kisses his forehead again.

"You were so good." He whispers, and that is the end of the argument. 

He washes his hands after tossing the tissues, before bringing a warm, damp cloth back to the bed to stroke over Cecil's brow before finishing the cleanup. 

"There. How does that feel, Cielito?" He asks, wrapping the furry blanket around Cecil's naked body. 

"Good." Cecil nods, curling up small in the center of the bed. "Do you--"

Carlos shakes his head. "It's going back down... In the morning, okay? Tonight was just for you, waiting won't kill me. Tonight was just for you, okay?"

"Okay." He nods again. 

"Do you feel up to a little treat? I bought oranges on my way home... big ones. I could cut one up for us, huh?"

Cecil smiles, and Carlos is struck with a sudden urge to kiss the little lines that crinkle up around his eyes when he does.

"Just a little." He agrees. It was a short scene, and he'd had dinner, but he likes the way Carlos spoils him after even when he doesn't need to be reminded to drink, to eat. He likes feeling safe, bundled up and leaning into a solid body, and he likes having Carlos feed him by hand, even if it's only half an orange. He thinks Carlos must like feeding him, because Carlos has taken to stocking the kitchen with the kinds of things that can easily be fed, and he does not always limit the attention to immediately after a scene. It seems like any time they eat together, Carlos has to at least offer him one bite. 

He likes that, too, a lot. 

Carlos returns to bed with a paper plate, orange wedges arranged almost carefully, balanced on top of a glass of ice water. Cecil may not need to aggressively rehydrate, but Carlos doesn't think it would hurt either of them to drink more water. Half a glass after a little exertion feels about right to him.

"You have no idea how good for me you are, Cielito." He smiles, climbing back into bed and pulling Cecil up against him, to tuck into a familiar spot at his side. "Really. Before I had you to take care of, I was so bad about buying food. Couldn't be bothered with healthy. I mean, I knew better, but... Well, when all you've got is work, and all you think about is work..."

"I'm glad I could be good for you."

"You are. Absolutely. Now I think about healthy snacks-- even if I only actually eat them when I'm with you. I cook more. Probably at the right time of life to start making better choices, I mean... it's not going to get any easier the farther we slide towards middle age... Which used to terrify me. Every year that passed without me doing something really spectacular, or... or finding myself outside of work. Of course, Night Vale's given me better things to worry about than aging--"

"You're not even that old." Cecil rolls his eyes, and opens his mouth for a peeled orange segment. 

"Yeah, but... God willing someday I will be. And... Well, I did find you. I've... I've got more balance in my life. I have to take care of myself because if I don't, how can I take care of you? And... I really like taking care of you. I can't imagine how... how I lived before I knew this world existed. How I could have ever not understood how right this could feel, not just being with you, but... all of it."

"You make me really happy, Carlos." Cecil sighs. 

"Good. You, too. For me. I love you, mister Palmer. And I have plans for your future."

"I'll leave that to you, then... I bet you've got great plans."

Cecil's smile is wide and sleepy and satisfied, and Carlos lets him nap a little between snack and teeth-brushing, the vote of confidence turning over in his mind. He was pretty sure they were great plans... and he was looking forward to seeing them all through.


	2. Begging

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the hardest thing Carlos has ever had to do... but he makes Cecil wait.

It's after a shared shower at the end of a long day that the mood shifts. Dinner had been simple, and quiet, Carlos recovering from a week of grant applications and small explosions, Cecil from his latest employee review. Even when they went well, he felt like a wreck for so long after, and he and Carlos had barely had time to occupy the same apartment at the same time without falling asleep on each other... 

"Baby?" Carlos asks, and Cecil smiles up at him sweetly, from where he'd bent to dry his legs. 

"Thank you." He whispers, dropping to his knees on the thick bath mat and drying Carlos instead, his feet up to his knees as Carlos continued to towel off normally from the waist up.

"Sorry I couldn't have been there for you when you needed me most." Carlos leans forward to give Cecil's hair a quick rub with his own towel. "Swamped with trying to get enough funding to actually pay the team enough to live on, plus all the fire suppression we've been needing lately... I don't even know how many times I've had to get the fire extinguishers refilled, and the fire department in town hasn't been... helpful, exactly?"

"That's okay, Carlos, really. I mean... it sounds like you needed me, too, and my schedule wasn't making that easy, either. It happens, right? Besides... you're worth waiting for."

"Am I? You think you could wait for me?" Carlos grins, challenging. "Even if I kept making you wait?"

Cecil hesitates, frozen in the act of nuzzling at Carlos' knee. "You wouldn't really make me wait, would you, Carlos?"

"I might... I might want to hear you beg for what you want... I might decide you haven't begged enough."

He can see the shudder of excitement and the darkening of Cecil's eyes, right before Cecil's hands lightly clasp his ankles, Cecil's forehead pressing to one shin.

"Please, Carlos, oh please!" He does not whine, exactly, but the pleading note is more than clear enough. "I've been waiting for you so long already, I've been so patient and so good waiting for you, you don't really want me to wait long now, do you?"

"I'm thinking about it." Carlos smiles, reaching down to brush his fingertips over Cecil's wet hair. "But I just have to hear you. I have to know what you need... and how bad you need it."

"So badly, Carlos, I need you..." Cecil migrates downward, to kiss the top of one instep and rest his forehead there, doubled over in supplication. Carlos' eyes can trace the places where the bumps of Cecil's vertebrae are visible, up near the neck, can see the soft curve and folds lower down where a gentle little layer of fat is there to hide the bones below.

A good body, all told-- Carlos thinks, at least. A body he can dig his fingers into sometimes, a body he can cuddle up with... He remembers once, being briefly terrified by a strange man on the radio. That man had described Cecil as neither thin nor fat, but Carlos thinks it is more accurate to say he is both. To say he is both tall and short, as well. Cecil cannot be defined by absences, Cecil is a plethora of qualities that cannot quite exist in one body. But now that he has come to know him, he can no longer accept that Cecil is 'average', in any respect. Only that he is too full of both sides of every spectrum and must in the end break even. A body with lean lines and soft rolls, with height stretching towards the tall end of average that somehow scrunched down to look up at Carlos' less than impressive stature as though it was perfectly natural. 

He likes seeing it at his feet. 

"I want to suck your cock... I love the way you taste. Even right now, even right out of the shower, you're still wet and I could dry you off and take such good care of you if you let me, take such good care of your cock.." Cecil continues, working his way back up from ankle to knee again, his cheek resting there at last, where Carlos can give his hair another light touch. "You could hold me still and give me just as much as you think I deserve, just a little at a time if you didn't think I earned it yet, but I just need it so much, Carlos, to know I'm making you feel good? You would like that, wouldn't you? Wouldn't you like to let me, please? To let me suck you?"

"How bad do you need it?" Carlos asks, and his voice is rough, his cock ready and willing to jump on board with everything Cecil is offering. "I'm not quite convinced you need it, baby..."

"Oh, but I do!" 

And there it is, Carlos grins, that's a whine-- no, a whimper, too weak to be a whine. There is nothing strident, no entitlement or demand in it, only a pleading that sounds seconds from breaking.

"Then tell me. How bad." He says, denying them both a while longer. He doesn't think his cock is too happy with that decision, when Cecil's mouth is available. 

"I can't stand it..." Cecil shakes his head, still pressing into Carlos' leg. "I can't stand not having you in my mouth, not tasting you. Not feeling how hot and how hard you are in my mouth, Carlos, or the way it feels right before you come, don't you want me? I could make you come. I'll be so good, I will. Even better than last time, even better than any time, I'll be so good for you, but I waited so long already! And I-- I was lonely! I was lonely and sometimes the bed was empty even when I slept in yours, and I-- I needed so much to be yours, I wan-wanted to l-lie back, I wanted to feel you f-f-fuck my throat, want you to now, want you to use me any way you want to and I promise I'll be good!"

And there was what Cecil needed to say. The stuttering, sobbing, rising desperation.

Carlos doesn't think that means his first answer was a lie-- they both have careers, after all, and sometimes these things do happen, and he believes Cecil honestly didn't hold that against him even if the timing had been more than ordinarily bad. But he thinks it's still true. He pushes away the guilt at not being there for Cecil to give him this. He can give it now.

"Open your mouth for me, baby." He urges Cecil's head back, placing the head of his cock against Cecil's lower lip, his grip tightening in short hair to keep Cecil from moving. "I just said open your mouth, I didn't say anything else."

There's a whine, sharp and needy, in the back of Cecil's throat. 

"You're a good boy, Cecil." Carlos promises, his self-restraint taxed almost to its own breaking point. The wet, velvet heat of Cecil's mouth within easy reach, to have any way he liked... all he had to do was rock his hips forward into that mouth, but Cecil wasn't quite ready, not yet. "If this is what you want, baby, then this is what you get. You've been so patient for me, you've been so good about using your words. Now I know what you want... I think you're ready for me to give it to you."

This time, the sound is a moan, and Carlos rocks forward. He lets Cecil keep some control at first-- it's hard not to want to give him some, when he knows just what to do with it-- but before too long, he's holding onto Cecil's head and thrusting, for the satisfied moans that vibrate around his cock when he speeds up, when he goes just a little rough.

He comes on Cecil's face, when he's done-- Cecil had not, after all, begged to be allowed to swallow. Just allowed to taste. 

"Beg." He whispers. 

"May I come, Carlos?" Cecil whispers, voice shaking. 

"Beg."

"Please, Carlos, I want to come... I'm so hard, from sucking you... so hot, you get me so hot, and I need to."

"What if I said you couldn't?" Carlos asks, admiring the view a moment longer before washing Cecil's face. Unorthodox, in the middle of the scene, but he doesn't want to leave it...

"I-- You wouldn't, would you Carlos?" He asks, bites his lip and looks up with wide, glittering eyes as Carlos wipes his face and pats it dry.

"It looks painful. You're so hard, baby... but I don't want you to touch yourself."

"Will-- will you touch me?"

"... No." Carlos smiles wickedly, and strokes Cecil's hair. "Not there. Not your cock... you look ready to blow. Tell me all about what you need, baby."

"I need..." Cecil searches his face for guidance. 

"My ass? You'd like that, you'd like to let me push you down and ride you? Oh, you'd like it... but you don't need it. What do you need?"

"Your mouth?"

"Do you? Do you need my mouth on you? Do you need me to lick and suck you until you can't hold back any longer? Do you really, really need that? Or do you just want it?"

"Your hands?" Cecil presses, desperate, shifting fruitlessly in an attempt to feel something.

Carlos strokes his cheeks, his shoulders, hands roaming the easily reachable parts of Cecil. "You need to pump up into my fist, is that it? Need me to squeeze you and stroke you? Do you need me to play with your balls, Cecil? Need my thumb pressing into that sweet spot? Do you really? What do you need, baby? Only what you really need?"

"I need you." Cecil moans, sagging slightly into Carlos' hands, his eyes mostly closed and rolled back under his lids, his mouth slack between words and his face flushed bright and hot wherever he leaned into Carlos' touch. "I need to come..."

"Come." Carlos commands, watching as Cecil's cock twitches, oozes precome-- maybe even a little more. 

He still needs to kneel down and finish getting Cecil off by hand, but he wonders if he might not always have to, if Cecil would enjoy trying that kind of training out in future. 

"Was I good?" Cecil asks after, leaning heavily against Carlos. 

"Cielito... so good." Carlos promises, kissing him. "And I just undid your whole shower... you're sweaty."

"Uh-huh." Cecil gives a little shiver, and Carlos takes that as his cue, cleaning them up and hurrying to get Cecil up off the bathroom floor and into his blanket. 

"You were the best. That's how good you were. You were beautiful... did you get what you needed?"

Cecil nods and burrows down into the green fur, before snuggling tight to Carlos. "I did. I needed that..."

"You were beautiful." He repeats. "I've never seen you so absolutely desperate. It was incredible. I'm a very lucky man to get to see you like that. I love you very much, okay?"

"Uh-huh." Cecil grins. Carlos laughs to see it and kisses his nose.

"Well, looks like you're feeling a lot better. You can fall asleep. I'll give you a treat in the morning, okay? We can cook breakfast together, something extra nice." He promises, piling the rest of the covers over them both. "Love you, Cecil."

"Love you more, Carlos." Cecil replies, in a sleep-addled mumble.

"Love you exactly the same." Carlos corrects, reaching past Cecil to turn out the light. They'd both feel a lot more recharged come morning, he was sure of that.


	3. Being Blindfolded

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carlos, with his perfect hair and his perfect smile, is beautiful. Cecil has to find new ways to verify this, with sight removed from the equation.

"Okay?" Carlos asks, his voice gentle as he adjusts the sleep mask. "Can you see?"

"No, Carlos." 

Beneath the mask, Cecil's eyes are closed, anyway. If Carlos was to tell him he was to be 'blindfolded', then Cecil would do anything before stealing so much as an unauthorized glance, and as far as he is concerned, the mask is only there to keep his eyes covered should they accidentally fly open on some rogue impulse. 

"Good boy." Carlos coos, and Cecil feels a shiver run down his spine.

He is kneeling, in the middle of the bedroom floor, in the black satiny sleep mask, the purple suede collar, and his striped over-the-knee socks. Carlos has placed him on a folded quilt, to let him spend a longer time on his knees, and he is grateful. It's comfortable, and he's sure he makes a silly picture, all mismatched, but the last he'd seen of Carlos' face had been a look of anticipation just turning to desire...

"Some time I'll have to find a mask that goes with the collar for you, baby... I looked around, a little. Nothing really matches, but if you're good for me, maybe I'll let you choose one... order something you really like. Maybe see about something in a purple stocking?" Carlos' voice held a lilt of suggestion, and Cecil grinned. 

"I'll be very good for you, Carlos." He promises. 

"Mm, I bet. You're just so... eager to please."

The sleep mask had been a drug store purchase, on a whim, because they'd been talking about blindfolds. Not the most attractive bit of paraphernalia they'd collected... but it meant not waiting on something through the mail, or venturing into the adult store that still hurt Carlos' brain. 

And, Cecil reflects, he does not really have to think about how it or he looked. He was, until Carlos released him, blind. It made him a little nervous, but that was part of the draw. He would be safe with Carlos... even if being sightless made him antsy, he would be safe. He missed being able to look at his Carlos, though... before the blindfold, before the Scene proper, there had been kisses on the sofa that had left that perfect hair so beautifully tousled. Carlos' eyes always did the most marvelous things, when he looked at Cecil with that proprietary want that had become second nature to him over time. The sense of ownership he took that made Cecil come over all wobbly and needy, made him eager. To please, to be pleased... not that Carlos needed to do too much to please him, not when he hit that point. Carlos only had to take, and giving would send Cecil through the roof.

He is used to reading Carlos' desires through visual cues. The slightest gesture, a certain glance, a flicker of the eyes... Now he can only wait.

Finally, fingertips, rough and warm, skate down his bare shoulder, and Cecil practically jumps and shivers. 

"You're wound a little tight, baby..." Carlos croons to him, in that lovely voice. Normally, Carlos' voice is bright and clear, like gold... Cecil still remembers the first time he'd heard it, ringing out bell-like over the press conference. It seemed so long ago... It seems so far away. Now, Carlos' voice is husky, heated. "Do you need me to help you relax?"

"Please?" Cecil straightens further, a near-impossible feat with how careful he'd kept his posture. He wants to keep those fingers on him, and they pull away too soon. 

Carlos' hands return to both shoulders, and Cecil relaxes under them as they begin to knead. 

"That's it..." Carlos whispers to him, and it carries so well, every sound is so crisp when there is nothing but touch and sound to focus on. "That's my sweet baby, relax for me. I want you to love this..."

Cecil nods, just slightly, feels another shiver as Carlos' hands slide down his chest as far as they can without Carlos moving in closer. 

"I want you to beg me to have this again and again." Carlos continues, and Cecil tries to conjure up an image of what his smile must look like. Smugly possessive, but never without sweetness. The joy of discovery... it hadn't taken too long for Carlos to apply that which made him an excellent and avid scientist into becoming an excellent and avid lover, devising new experiments in Cecil's pleasure, observing his reactions carefully and altering his actions based on those reactions. "I want you to need it. How vulnerable you must feel right now, missing one of your senses... but you know I'm here to take care of you. Don't you, baby?"

"Yes, Carlos." Cecil nods again, until a hand on the back of his neck stills him. And that was it in a nutshell, wasn't it? That was what had drawn him to it. The chance to give up his wariness, carefully honed from a lifetime of speakable terrors as well as unspeakable-- the latter it was best not to see, of course, but the former you could guard against, and Cecil had always prided himself on dodging avoidable death with good spirits and the municipally approved variety of watchfulness. 

But the dark... the dark was sweet, a comfort, with Carlos looking after him. Carlos could never let anything bad happen, not to his Cecil, not when Cecil was so good, so sweet. In the dark, all he had to do was be there, and be Carlos'. 

"Good boy."

Carlos' hands leave, and Cecil bites his lip against a whimper, until he hears the sound of fabric against fabric, shushing itself in the slide of shirt, trousers, underthings, all discarded to land on the floor with the softest little whump.

Cecil feels the air stir as Carlos circles him, once, twice, three times.

"You look so good, behaving nicely for me. Waiting, like a good boy." Carlos praises, coming to stop in front of Cecil, to face him. Cecil can feel the warmth of him, can feel the approach of his hand before it cups his cheek. "Patient. I like that."

"I just want to make you happy, Carlos." Cecil sighs, leaning into the touch, turning to press fervent kisses to Carlos' palm. 

"Good. You do."

"Please-- May I?" He lifts a hand.

Carlos takes it, guiding it to run over his abdomen, and Cecil feels the jump of little muscles, feels the whisper of hair beneath his palm, the warmth, the incredible smoothness and softness of Carlos' skin there, not at all like most of his skin. So delicate, just at the belly, at a few other places he could think of, but not even like the skin higher up Carlos' body. Even where it wasn't rough, few places were near so soft as his belly. Enviably flat, overall. Most of Carlos was... taut. Spare and elegant, Cecil thought, showing off the curving ridges of bone at hip and shoulder, the vague hint of his ribcage, the marvel that was his clavicle. Showing off tendons where they stood out with any strain, and sometimes Cecil twisted and writhed against the hands that pinned his wrists to the bed for the pleasure of seeing those tendons on Carlos' forearms. 

He knows the skin is a warm tan in its palest places, knows where the tan is deeper, where it becomes a soft burnished brown with frequent exposure to the sun-- all that field work, and Carlos never reapplies sunscreen as he should... He knows flush of red that sometimes tints that skin, and where. He knows its rich tapestry of colors by heart, and even blindfolded, when his fingers travel Carlos' body, he knows what he is 'looking' at. He touches only at Carlos' discretion, at Carlos' directing. When his hand is moved away, he accepts it, though he had been hoping to be guided someplace very specific. 

Carlos' hand braces on Cecil's shoulder instead, and then Carlos is kneeling, sharing the very edge of the folded quilt cushion. 

"I bet you want something extra special, for being a patient baby?" Carlos asks, puffs of breath against Cecil's cheek, each soft and warm and sweet, and Cecil remembers the little container of mints they'd had, on the sofa, between dinner and wild kisses, smells the sugar and mint...

"I want anything you'll give me."

"Right answer." Carlos chuckles.

This time, when he places Cecil's hands, he lets them go. 

The freedom is heady, feeling Carlos' cheeks beneath his hands and knowing that, with no guidance and with the promise of a treat, he is allowed to take what he wants. He traces over Carlos' expression, feeling the lips curved up in that little smirk that spoke of pleased possession. Feeling closed lids and very excellent cheekbones, the strength inherent to Carlos' jawline... the barely perceptible little divot in his chin, not quite a cleft, not by any means. Not quite a dimple, Cecil didn't think. Just a little point of interest in his explorations, he supposed. The gentle rasp of a day's stubble, the skin mostly smooth where there was none. The lines that marked frequent smiles, frowns of concentration, raised eyebrows... 

The hair. Silky curls that wound around Cecil's fingers so naturally, and the way Carlos telegraphs his delight at having his hair played with. 

Lower, the sides of his neck, elegant. He felt out the vertebrae up the back, before cupping the base of Carlos' skull, enjoying the hair again.

One hand starts down Carlos' chest, and is caught.

"Naughty, mister Palmer." Carlos teases, getting to his feet. "Above the shoulders... Well. Let's forget that for now. I didn't explain the rules to you. That gives us the chance to change them, don't you think? Maybe I do want you below the shoulders... Below the waist."

Cecil can smell arousal, sharp, enough to make him feel his head is reeling.

"No hands." Carlos orders, and the hot head of a cock is brought to just barely touch Cecil's lower lip. 

Cecil laps at it, sucks it into his mouth just gently. The taste is already so strong, the taste of need on him, and Cecil adores being the one Carlos needs. He opens his mouth more and more whenever Carlos presses forward, relaxes his throat to swallow him completely and moans in pleasure when Carlos cups the back of his head to keep him right where he's so desperately wanted. 

He is sorry not to be able to look upon the magnificent specimen he's been granted, remembers just what a gorgeous cock it is. The dark flush at the head, he can feel the heat of it... the little circumcision scar beneath his tongue, as-- once allowed the space to pull back-- he maps Carlos' cock out with careful licks. 

Precome. He doesn't think he's ever noticed it so fully. He likes to think he's very appreciative of all aspects of blowjob-giving without a blindfold, but it's different without his vision. No distractions, save the sound of Carlos' heavy breathing and the hands in his hair. 

Cecil moans, and keeps up the little licks until Carlos finally pushes back into his mouth, finally pushes back down his throat, and it's exactly what Cecil had needed. Just to be used, to let go completely, with Carlos' hands in his hair and Carlos' little grunts of pleasure and exertion washing over him, Carlos filling his remaining senses until he thinks he could spend a lot of time blindfolded, because there's no room left for more as he's filled and filled and filled.

"Give me your hands." Carlos whispers, when Cecil has swallowed the last of his release and lost his hold on the softening, sensitized cock. 

Cecil lifts both hands, palms down, waiting for Carlos to come under them. Once Carlos has him, Cecil is pulled to his feet with an ease and a grace.

"That was wonderful, baby." Carlos whispers in his ear, and gives his cock a fond little squeeze. "Let me get you in bed and I'll return the favor... You're going to feel so good you'll wonder how you ever got by without this, I promise... you're going to feel so, so good..."

Cecil shivers in anticipation and lets himself be led more than is really necessary. He could find their bed in the dark, but he likes Carlos' hands guiding him. 

On his back, in the center of the bed, with Carlos sat beside him, Cecil has little recourse. He can feel the stir of air as both of Carlos' hands hover over his body, but he can't quite anticipate all the touches as Carlos keeps him off-balance. He can only welcome them when they come, and when he does.

"Don't take that blindfold off." Carlos cautions him. "I'll be back to soon."

Cecil nods and stays right where he is put. Carlos cleans him up, and he feels the roughness of the washcloth even more than usual, and the softness of the towel, patting rather than rubbing him dry after. He feels each warm touch and gentle kiss, feels his blanket wrapped around him, feels the way it tickles at his skin when he trembles, before Carlos tugs it around even tighter. 

Carlos holds Cecil, propped up against his chest, and holds the glass of water to his lips-- paying close attention, Cecil assumes, to when he's ready to drink, when he needs to pause. The whole time, there are gentle whispers against his temple, telling him how very, very good he's been.

Cecil gives a little whimper when Carlos sets him back down, and the bed loses the dip of Carlos' weight. He hears the creak in one floorboard, and then there is the click of the lightswitch. When Carlos gets back to bed, he pulls the mask from Cecil's eyes, and the room is comfortably dark.

"There." Carlos' grin picks up the little bit of light from the window. "Cielito, did you like that?"

"I did." Cecil nods. His grin feels distant on his own face. 

"Good. Tomorrow night I'll show you some pictures, online, you can pick out a permanent mask and we'll do it more often. It doesn't have to be purple-- I mean, purple suits you, but... you could look for one that matches the socks instead if you wanted. Nothing has to match, if you find one that you really like and it doesn't... but it should be better than something I grabbed at the drugstore."

"You spoil me." Cecil chuckles, turning to nuzzle into Carlos. 

"I like to give you nice things, when I can. If it's too much, we can save it for a special occasion." He offers, shrugging and pulling the rest of the blankets up over them. "I mean... you're always so demonstratively grateful when I do, so... it's pretty good for me to spoil you."

"It was... weird. I kept wishing I could see you, but... it was really good to have that cut off, even when I was wishing." Cecil smiles. "I liked it. I loved... I could feel where you were in the room after a while, even when you moved away from me... like I could almost see you in my mind. Touching you and knowing how you must look under my hands, it was... I liked it."

"Me too. But... I probably won't do it too often. I miss those big, beautiful eyes of yours." Carlos chuckles and steals a kiss, nips at Cecil's lower lip playfully and grabs him, squeezes him. "Mmm, my Cielito, you're so wrapped up I could just roll you around like this... c'mere, where are your hands?"

"I don't know. In here with the rest of me. I think."

They share a laugh, Carlos loosening the furry blanket to free a hand for holding and kissing. 

"I love your eyes. But I'm glad it's fun for you to go without for a little while. It does something to you... Not something new, exactly, you're always so..."

"Desperate?"

"Eager. And sweet for me. But this was different, a little... I could feel how keyed into me you got, when you just had touch and sound."

"Taste." Cecil leers.

"That, too."

Cecil yawns. "Can I sleep?"

"Little nap, then I'm getting us up to brush our teeth, it has to happen."

"Little nap." Cecil agrees, and he wraps one corner of his blanket over Carlos' arm, welcoming him into the warm little nest of it for further hand-holding.


	4. Bondage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cecil can't come to the phone right now...

Carlos kisses the inside of each wrist, before tightening the thick leather straps of Cecil's cuffs just so. Cecil kneels in the doorway of the bedroom, beneath the tension rod-- meant for hanging curtains, now in use here, where Carlos can loop nylon cord through the cuffs and around it, to guide Cecil's arms up above his head.

"Now remember, you can't let this take all your weight-- You can rest your arms a little, if you're careful, but if you start feeling heavy, you need to tell me." He warns. "And I'll take you down whenever you feel uncomfortable up there, baby, you just tell me when you need a little rest. Remember, we can take a little break and then tie you right back up if that's what you need."

"Yes, Carlos." Cecil smiles, and leans forward, and Carlos' hand comes up to his cheek. 

The spreader bar is new, and had been relatively easy to construct-- though Carlos isn't sure if he or his browser history will ever recover from all the things he ran across in his search for some simple directions. Still, this much is not outside his depth. It had been kind of fun, really. He'd come home from Home Depot-- and told Cecil it was a surprise-- only to be cuddled and sniffed at and called 'very manly'. 

He's not sure smelling like sawdust qualifies him for the term, but, well... he'd operated a cordless drill and done a lot of sanding, and Cecil had thought it was 'very manly' when he put together their bookcases, so he hadn't argued. 

He hadn't been sure he could paint the bar the same purple as the ribbon he already had, the ribbon he'd planned on running through the eye bolts on the ends, but black matched the cuffs, at least. Between the cuffs, the black-painted bar, the purple ribbons, and the collar, there was some visual cohesion-- ruined only by the bright blue nylon rope. 

It's a little bit awkward to lean around Cecil so that he can tie his ankles into the bar, but once he manages to get himself untangled from around Cecil, he takes a moment to admire the effect.

"Comfortable, baby?"

"Yes, Carlos." Cecil nods. 

Carlos wonders about restricting that next time, wonders if he should have added a third eye bolt after all, to attach Cecil's collar to the bar. But they'd only discussed wrists and ankles, this time, and just because he'd bound Cecil up more completely in the past, it didn't mean he could assume. Besides... there is something endearing in the over-enthusiastic bob of Cecil's head whenever he is pleased, or excited, or merely wishes to reassure. Cecil has a brightness to him, an innocence that is in no way changed by leather and restraints and the way he begs when Carlos asks him to.

Heightened, if anything, because the trust he places in Carlos is something so pure that Carlos can hardly understand it. It comes with a light in Cecil's eyes that burns just for him. In the filthiest and most depraved scenes that their combined imaginations could conjure, Cecil retains his strange innocent purity, and so Carlos retains his sweetness. He could never repay Cecil's trust with anything else. 

He's not sure if this means their depravity is not so depraved after all. His mother would wince seeing them hold hands, so he supposes it's a matter of perspective. Some days, he wishes he could tell her he has a boyfriend who wears over-the-knee socks and a purple collar, to shatter for good the illusion that he is her brilliant, perfect son who 'hasn't settled down yet, because of Science', and damn the consequences.

He never gets to that point-- even as an independent adult, the consequences are more than he wants to bear. 

But those are consequences for Somewhere Else. Somewhere Outside. In Night Vale, Cecil takes his arm proudly when they walk out in public and people smile and wave at them both. In Night Vale, Cecil wore his collar grocery shopping with Carlos, and when Old Woman Josie heard it had been a gift, she'd merely complimented Carlos on his taste and asked them both if they wanted on her List, for homemade jam. The Erikas, she'd said, prefer honey, and there's always too much. 'It's persimmon', she'd added, and Cecil had agreed to take as many jars off her hands as she liked. 

Carlos strokes the inside of one of Cecil's forearms-- and it seems paler than usual, where the skin disappears beneath leather, but he supposes that's contrast. He traces a little 'C' on the skin and he isn't sure whose name he means it to stand for, so he traces a second. 

"You really are... such an attractive picture." He smiles, and Cecil looks so immediately gratified, so comfortable to be stretched out on display the way that he is, with his cock already beginning to lengthen, growing firmer and rosier with little upward twitches. 

Cecil's phone rings, and he makes a strangled whimpering sound, craning his neck to glance in its direction.

"Cecil..." Carlos tries to make his tone firm, grasping Cecil's chin. "You get too many calls. People taking up your time. Sending you after sound bytes and stories and demanding things from you... How many of them make it worth your time? Because I am going to be worth your time."

He glances to the side again, though he keeps his chin at rest in Carlos' hand. It's his general ringtone, which means it isn't work, and it isn't one of the few close friends who rate their own ringtones, either, nor is it the Sheriff's Secret Police. Whatever the call is, it can't be too important. 

Carlos falters, just the same. "You know I'd-- I'm just asking. You can tell me if you need to get that and we'll start over."

"If it's important, they'll leave a message." Cecil smiles, and Carlos strokes a thumb over the soft crinkles beside one eye. "Unless the ringing bothers you."

"I could always tell them you're all tied up right now." Carlos snorts. He's aware of the fact that it's a lame pun, too obvious, and yet Cecil laughs with him-- not humoring him with it, but honest... warm. 

And if that isn't just Cecil all over, Carlos doesn't know what is-- the innocence, the warmth, the honesty... Cecil is remarkably uncomplicated, at heart. Cecil makes the terrifying world they live in seem uncomplicated, when Carlos needs him to. Cecil laughs at the worst of his jokes because he is delighted every time that Carlos shares one, no matter how terrible it is, or how incomprehensibly scientific, Cecil picks up on the nuance in the telling when he cannot follow the jargon, and Cecil picks up on Carlos' amusement and returns it joyfully.

And Cecil looks beautiful strung up on a curtain rod in the bedroom doorway, with faint annoyance battling said amusement as he tries to ignore his phone. It's in the bedroom, and Carlos doesn't think he can step around Cecil to shut it off without tripping, getting tangled up. 

"Forget about it, baby." He strokes Cecil's hair, his face, the side of his neck. He strokes his way up Cecil's arms, and down under them, fingertips tracing the thin muscles that lie over Cecil's ribs. He touches everything he can while remaining upright, and watches Cecil's erection pick up, watches it slowly move from its lazy, half-limp spot against Cecil's thigh to bounce up towards his belly, watches the foreskin pull back and his balls tighten, and all it takes is touches that don't stray nearly that low, and a few choice words whispered sweet and low. 

"You're so hot like this." Carlos urges him on, tugging Cecil's head back so that their eyes meet. "My sweet baby, just look at you... You want to be good for me, don't you? You want to be a good boy so that I'll give you everything you need?"

"Yes, Carlos." Cecil nods, as far as he can with Carlos' fingers threaded through his hair, close to the scalp. 

"Then forget all about that phone. You're with me now. Nothing is important but you, and me... You have a sweet mouth, Cielito, and I know exactly what to do with it. Oh, you like that idea?"

"Yes, Carlos!" Cecil strains to lean forward without overbalancing himself, and Carlos keeps hands on him, but doesn't hold him back. 

Cecil traces the line of Carlos' zipper with his nose, and then with his tongue, his own cock growing harder as Carlos undoes his fly and lets Cecil get closer. Carlos feels himself getting harder as well, between the sight Cecil makes and the way he nuzzles desperately at the opening, the way he tries to suck at Carlos through his boxers-- and they are worn thin with age and laundering, and Cecil's tongue is hot through them...

Carlos groans, and feels the vibration as Cecil moans against him in reply. 

"I'm taking you down off the beam, okay?" He asks, pulling Cecil back. As much as he doesn't want to, he pushes Cecil away from his aching cock. "I don't want us pulling it down because we lose control and can't pay attention to how much stress we're putting on it."

"Okay, Carlos." Cecil nods, holding still as Carlos unloops the nylon rope. 

"Wiggle your fingers for me, this is probably a good time to switch everything up so you keep your circulation."

Carlos undoes the cuffs, rubbing at and kissing Cecil's wrists. Once satisfied, he leans around, folds himself over Cecil to be able to bind his wrists again behind his back.

"There... How is that?"

"Very comfy, Carlos." Cecil beams. 

Carlos regrets not putting that third eye bolt in when it occurs to him he could attach the cuffs to the spreader bar, but then he supposes another loop of rope or of ribbon would do the trick, next time. 

He pushes his trousers and boxers down, and his fingers thread tight in Cecil's hair again, to keep him from leaning forward on his own initiative. 

"Not until I tell you." He cautions, and Cecil holds still, as Carlos teases him by holding his cock so close, resting the head against Cecil's lips without granting him permission. He teases himself with it, too, knowing the promise Cecil's mouth holds. Knowing how good Cecil will be, with just one word. He slides along Cecil's closed lips, feeling the softness of the skin, the warm breath from Cecil's nostrils. 

"Good." He praises, his voice only just trembling with how much he wants this man, with the weight of knowing that Cecil is his for the asking, his without asking, his with such an immense trust. Cecil, who rarely asks for what he doesn't need, and who is so grateful and demonstrative by nature for what he gets, who can rhapsodize over the smallest things sometimes... 

Cecil, he thinks, knows how to live. Especially in Night Vale, where things are so often so deadly, so incomprehensible. Cecil's greatest coping mechanism is delight, he takes it in all things good. In foods he likes, in cat videos, and in everything that Carlos gives him. Cecil repays him with so much sheer delight Carlos could break from it. 

There's nothing quite like being caught up in that almost-tangible brand of happiness that is Cecil at his most satisfied, and he is most satisfied when he has to wait just a little bit, when Carlos gives it to him instead of letting him take it. It is more like a gift that way, and Cecil loves gifts. 

"Okay, baby, you've been patient long enough." Carlos breathes the words out, rubbing gently at Cecil's scalp. "Open."

Cecil does, and Carlos can see the elation sweeping over his features when Carlos' cock slides into his mouth.

When Carlos stops him, Cecil whimpers, bereft, as he's pulled away from that cock.

"I'm going to come on you." Carlos strokes his cheek. "Okay, baby?"

"O-okay." Cecil nods, and his eyes are wide and so dark, and his chest is right there, with his wrists bound behind his back, his chest is thrust forward as the perfect target.

Cecil can only watch hungrily as Carlos strokes himself, as Carlos chuckles at his instinctive tug against his restraints, his desire to touch. When Carlos warns him he's close, Cecil looks up to his face, drinking in the uncontrolled pleasure that washes over him, the way his breath catches, mouth open. 

He cranes his neck after to try and lick his own chest clean, and Carlos pets at him.

"Leave it. I like looking at you all messy." Carlos smiles, and Cecil straightens up for him, with a smear of come across his chin from his attempts. "Beautiful. Mm, not done, though."

He gets his arms around Cecil carefully, lifting him onto his feet in a quick, smooth motion, though it means most of the mess is transferred to his shirt. He kneels to untie the spreader bar, and to give the underside of Cecil's shaft a long, slow lick. He leaves the cuffs, even as he propels Cecil onto the bed, to lie atop his arms on his back, and he refastens the spreader bar there. It gives him such open access, to give Cecil's balls some attention. 

After the teasing, he delivers a rough, dispassionate handjob-- Cecil is close enough for it, had expressed the desire before they'd begun. He hadn't wanted it to be about his orgasm, just wanted it, and so Carlos promised to make sure his release simply was. He couldn't fathom not getting Cecil off, especially when he shot come across his own belly and looked so satisfied lying there after... Carlos can't fathom not wanting to see that as often as possible. But, he'd made a promise, to make sure it didn't become about Cecil's orgasm, and he keeps it. Another time, after all, always another time. 

"Was that what you needed, Cielito?" He asks, untying the loops of ribbon at the spreader bar again.

Cecil nods, grinning dizzily, and Carlos massages his way from ankle to hip on both sides before lifting Cecil up to a seated position to free his arms. Another quick bout of massaging, and he lets Cecil fall back to his pillow.

"I'm going to clean you up and get you some tea. You can check your messages later, when you feel a little more together. No rush, right?"

Cecil only nods again, and lets Carlos take care of everything. He doesn't spare the phone another worry.


	5. Chauffeuring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So... I wasn't going to rush the next chapter out quite so fast, but... 
> 
> I thought the fandom needed more 'gay propaganda' and put a rush on it. (that's right, nothing motivates me to write about deviant queer sex like being told queer sex is inherently deviant)
> 
> Of course... it would be the least 'sexy' chapter that happened to fall here. Ah well, I'll settle for combating hate with fluff.

It started with Cecil driving Carlos the morning after Carlos spent the night at his apartment, and Carlos almost didn't think anything of it, except for the alacrity with which Cecil made sure to open his door for him, to offer him a hand up to and down from the cab of the truck. 

So when his car's engine turns into an enraged octopus, it's as good a reason as any to try exploring something.

"Cecil?" He asks, over the phone, a call that had come early enough in the morning that Cecil answered it before he was even properly awake. "Hey. It's me."

"Of course it's you, lovely Carlos, you're the only one my phone plays Blondie's 'Atomic' for." Cecil's voice is muzzy, smile audible. 

"Right. Well... My car is in the shop. And my engine is in the aquarium."

"Oh, you got that? It's been happening a lot lately." Cecil clucks sympathetically.

"Glad... it's not just me?" Carlos hazards. It does mean he has more to study. "Anyway, I was wondering if you would be free to drive me today? I don't have to leave the lab at all during the day, if you could just get me over there, you could pick me up after your show."

"I'd be happy to. Just let me wake up enough to drive first and I'll be right over."

"And-- Cecil? I was wondering... I know you like doing things for me." Carlos rubs at the back of his neck, not sure how to phrase it. "I was wondering if this was the kind of thing you would like doing. For me. I mean, the kind of thing you'd particularly enjoy. If you'd get something from it, maybe we could... make a day of it?"

Cecil's breath is shuddery for a moment. "I'd like that, Carlos."

"Good. Then... dress up nice and pick me up, and I'll give you your orders when I see you." Carlos smiles, relieved. "And once you get me home tonight, I'll take care of you like always."

"Thank you, Carlos. I'll be right over."

"See you then, baby."

He feels a little silly, and thinks he always will, blowing kisses over the phone, but he does it because Cecil never acts as if it's silly. Cecil blows kisses without a hint of self-consciousness. 

Cecil shows up at his door, not as long after hanging up as Carlos had anticipated, wearing a very sharply-knotted tie, wearing an actual suit. Granted, his suit is green, and it looks as if it might have been designed in the nineteen twenties, but it's a suit, which Carlos has never seen before.

"Your car." Cecil's bow is stiff and formal, his smile excited, almost cheeky. 

"Thank you." Carlos lets Cecil lead him out to the truck, lets him play footman first. It's kind of nice, having doors opened for him sometimes. And having Cecil's hand offering a surprisingly solid support. Cecil makes sure that Carlos is entirely inside the cab with no elbows likely to move into a dangerous position before he shuts the door firmly.

Cecil climbs into the driver's seat and sits, straight and tall, eyes ahead and hand on the key, awaiting the orders he'd been promised.

"To the lab, please." Carlos nods, tries to sound like the kind of man who would be getting chauffeured someplace. 

Cecil only nods, and the nod is impossibly precise, before turning the key and pulling out onto the road. As properly as he behaves, Carlos can feel the little buzz of energy about him, the excitement of taking on this role, providing service. 

When they pull into Carlos' parking spot outside the lab, he turns to stroke Cecil's cheek, and watches the flutter of eyelids and the fine tremor it causes, as Cecil fights to keep his professional demeanor in place for the scene.

"I have some other orders for you, once you let me out here." He smiles, voice pitched low.

"Anything you need."

"Go home and take a nice hot bath for me, and have a bagel and some juice, okay? Can you take good care of yourself like that?"

Cecil nods, and Carlos takes his hand from the wheel to kiss his knuckles. 

"Good. And don't forget to eat again when lunchtime rolls around. I won't be able to look after you until after your show, when you pick me up. So I want you to pack a bag for me, all right? Something to sleep in, if you want. Any toiletries I don't have for you at my place. Clothes for tomorrow morning. And your blanket. Can you remember to pack all those things?"

"I can remember." Cecil nods again, and it is less the precise chauffeur nod, and more his own, the enthusiastic bob of a man eager to prove himself Good. "Anything I need for the night. Clothes for tomorrow. Blanket."

"Good. Because once you drive me home, I'm keeping you."

Cecil grins in spite of himself, and nods even more enthusiastically. "Yes, Carlos."

"Good. Now come and get my door."

Cecil salutes, grin broad and bright, and hops down to race for Carlos' door. He helps Carlos out with the sweetest little subservient look he's ever worn, his grin barely tamed. 

"I like the suit." Carlos whispers in passing, before he heads in to the lab and leaves Cecil by the truck. 

\---/-/---

Cecil eats breakfast first, when he gets back home-- he'd been in such a rush to pick Carlos up, he'd left it for after. He's pretty sure Carlos had specified the bagel because he knew from the last time he'd spent the night that Cecil had bagels, not because he intended to dictate exactly what Cecil ate, but... Well, he did have them, after all. And he decided he wouldn't mind, if Carlos did decide what he ate. 

After polishing off the bagel and a tall glass of juice, he hangs his suit up in the bedroom, and goes to draw the bath, adding some of the bubbles Carlos had had him buy recently. It is nice, taking the time to pamper himself... It's nicer letting Carlos do it, of course, but doing it on Carlos' orders is almost as good. He never just decides to take a bubble bath, but he enjoys them every time Carlos suggests it. 

He gets on with his day once he feels he's luxuriated enough, packing his overnight case as directed and then shifting himself into work mode, with the promise that anything he really needed, Carlos would be sure to provide him with that night.

\---/-/---

Cecil arrives at the lab not too long after the end of his show, and there are a few raised eyebrows among the scientists when Carlos answers the door to his boyfriend in a suit-- a real suit, almost like what someone might wear outside of Night Vale. Carlos is sure it doesn't help his case with the rumor mill any, that Cecil is not acting his regular self, not cheerily waving to the team and greeting them, not barely restraining himself from shows of physical affection-- though it is clear enough to Carlos at least that Cecil is restraining himself with some effort, to play his part.

Well, he decides, if he has to, he can just say that Cecil was both dressed up and subdued because they'd had plans and there'd been an error with their dinner reservations, or something. 

Cecil helps him up into the truck again and drives him home. After he's parked, and after he's helped Carlos down, Cecil fetches his bag and follows Carlos in. 

"Do you have everything?" Carlos asks, still keeping as cool a demeanor as he can.

"Yes, Carlos." Cecil nods. 

"Good." He opens his arms, and Cecil rushes into them with a little sound that wrenches at Carlos' heart in the sweetest way. "Good... Thank you for driving me today, baby, I really needed that."

"You're very welcome, Carlos, I loved doing it."

"I know you did... Come here, Cielito, give your Carlos a kiss and then let me get a look at you in this suit."

Cecil pulls his face from the crook of Carlos' neck to meet him in a kiss, and steps back from the circle of his arms to do a little turn. "Do you like it?"

"You know what? I do. I've never seen one like it before, was this made for you?"

"Oh, gosh, no! Does it really look like it was?" Cecil preens. "Wow! I never thought I looked that good in it! No, I found it in a little place in Old Town a couple years back, but I never really wear it... I just couldn't resist at the time. It was my birthday present to myself, I wore it to the party that was supposed to be a surprise, and I got a lot of compliments and all, but it's just... I mean, you know."

"It's nice on you." Carlos nods, tugging Cecil close again. "It makes you look... old fashioned, but with a little twist that's... that's just you. Like a butler or something. Just... green."

"Or a chauffeur."

"Exactly."

He helps Cecil out of the suit jacket anyway, and hangs it up on his coat rack, followed by Cecil's tie. Cecil's skin is soft and still just barely scented beneath his lips as he uncovers more and more, kisses every new patch he bares. Cecil melts into compliance with every murmur of thanks and every reassurance he's been good. 

"How was your bath, baby?" Carlos asks him, with his nose in Cecil's hair. 

"Wonderful."

"Good. You think about me?"

"Mm-hm, always."

"Good. Tell me what you need? You were good, you can have it, you just have to tell me."

Cecil, half-dressed and already going hazy, only buries himself back into Carlos' arms. 

"Will you just hold me? I'm ready to sleep."

"Are you sure, baby? How about some dinner first?"

Cecil makes a little sound, and hugs Carlos tight. "Okay."

"I've got some soup I can heat up for you. Albondigas." He promises, easing Cecil back, stroking his cheek to make the separating more bearable. "Get your blanket, baby, curl up on the couch for me and I'll get it ready. You want anything to go with?"

Cecil shakes his head. "Just soup. And something to drink."

"All right. Get your blanket."

Cecil nods and gets the blanket out of his bag, wrapping it around his shoulders before settling onto the sofa, to listen to Carlos bustle around his kitchen, between refrigerator and microwave, whistling to himself as the soup heats. 

When Carlos comes back to the couch, it's with Cecil's soup and a sandwich for himself, as well as a tall glass of ice water with a lime wedge floating in it.

"I just had enough left over for one." He shrugs. "I already had some yesterday, it's all yours. Also I didn't have any lemon, so I hope that's okay."

"If you're sure. And I like limes." 

"I'm sure. 

Cecil leans into Carlos' side, and Carlos feeds them both, alternating between bites of soup for Cecil and bites of sandwich for himself, and water for the both of them. 

"Be good for me and brush your teeth," Carlos says, when Cecil is finished eating. "And you'll get the cuddling of a lifetime, okay? I'll read to you if you want, if you're awake enough to listen."

"Maybe." Cecil smiles, and he has a spare toothbrush at Carlos' already, but he also has heartburn pills that he's packed, knowing he'd be likely to fall asleep right after eating. The timing, more than the spices in the soup, was his real problem. Pills taken and teeth brushed, he decides he's almost awake enough. "You could read a little."

"How about a poem?" Carlos offers, and Cecil's smile is grateful and sweet and halfway to sleep.

"A poem sounds nice." He agrees, and the last thing he's aware of, in the comfort of his blanket against his naked skin, is the warmth of Carlos' body sharing that space with him, and the sound of his voice as he reads.


	6. Choosing Clothes for Cecil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carlos takes charge of something that may be a little too much for him to handle this time...

"I'm going to take you out and show you off." Carlos promises, and Cecil all but vibrates with excitement. Carlos has agreed to take the better part of the day off for this, and Cecil has no idea where they'll go or what they'll do, nor does he care. The important thing is that Carlos arranged the day just to take him.

Cecil is wearing nothing but his bathrobe, after a shower, and Carlos slips easily into dark jeans and a plain white tee, a lightweight flannel shirt waiting and a weekend labcoat waiting for him, but Cecil...

Cecil has options. 

A distressing amount of options, really.

"Cecil?" Carlos' hands land on his shoulders, warm and just heavy enough to ground him, and Carlos' lips brush his ear. "Can I dress you today?"

Cecil nods, grateful. "I don't know what you want to show me off in, Carlos. Or how much of me you intended to show off... Or where we were going for me to be shown off at."

"Okay, I'll take care of it." Carlos smiles, hands slipping down to free Cecil of his bathrobe. 

Briefs are easy enough. Carlos is familiar with Cecil's drawers and their contents, and familiar with the very attractive way in which certain purple pairs hug things. Cecil steps in, Carlos tugs them up and takes his time 'adjusting them' until Cecil squirms away with a blush and a grin.

Socks are not too difficult. The constellations, one of Carlos' favorite pairs of Cecil's many, many socks, and unlike the over-the-knee socks, not likely to overheat him. He makes Cecil sit on the foot of the bed and tugs each one on with a wicked grin, adores the way Cecil grows flustered at the little bits of care taken. 

And then he opens Cecil's closet door, and after their first date, he has to ask himself, what did he expect?

There are Cecil's 'normal' clothes-- brightly colored shirts, some solid, some stripes, trousers of varied colors and patterns, a rack with what looks like about a hundred ties... Cecil's work wear. And despite the fact that one of the pairs of trousers is a bold yellow check and one is purple-on-purple striped, that section of the closet is still fairly normal, all things considered. 

The long white robes are right out, Carlos decides-- they look heavy, rough and woolen, and positively ceremonial.

The furry pants he doesn't know what to think of. They'd been surprisingly attractive on Cecil, once he'd gotten over the fact that they were furry pants. The jeans he likes, though Cecil almost never wears them. 

The leather pants are new to Carlos. 

"Baby, have you always had these?"

"Oh, uh... yeah?"

"Why have I not seen them before now?" Carlos grins, predatory, and Cecil grins back, the most delighted prey. "Try them on for me?"

Cecil nods and scampers into the bathroom, to put them on behind a mostly-closed door so that he can emerge a completed picture.

They are buttery soft and so black that Carlos thinks it can't be natural, and they hug everything. 

"Do you like?" Cecil gives a little twirl.

"Oh, you can't wear these out..." Carlos sighs, moving to him, planting his hands firmly on Cecil's rear. "If you wear these out, we're going to be publically indecent, because I won't be able to stop doing this."

He squeezes, and Cecil yelps and laughs and leans into him to beg a kiss.

"Oh-- Carlos... Of course I am entirely yours to command, but..." Cecil eyes Carlos' next selection warily. "Those are my laundry day jeans. I only wear them when all my suitable pants are in the laundry. Or for unpleasant household chores that might involve tearing or staining."

The jeans are thin and soft and pale, the kind of blue that skies used to be, when Carlos lived in places where the skies were almost always blue. Blue, with wispy white clouds of frayed fibers in spots across the knees, across the top of one thigh and the back of the other. 

"Humor me?"

"Yes, Carlos." Cecil nods, going to change. When he hangs the leather pants back up, Carlos watches hungrily at the little places where skin shows through. 

"You're right..." He agrees, slipping a finger through one hole to stroke at a soft, smooth spot. "These aren't right at all."

He kneels down and undoes the fly, and Cecil merely stands to let Carlos undress him, until Carlos reaches for his cock, pulls him free of his briefs. 

"Cielito? Is this okay?"

Cecil is still soft in his hand, but not for too long, and Carlos loves the way Cecil's cock comes to life for him, the way it can go from curled limp in his palm to straining upwards within his grip. 

"Y-yeah." Cecil smiles dizzily, that off-balance near grin that Carlos loves. The one he's come to associate with making the right call. 

He doesn't try to draw things out, just sucks Cecil off quick-- as much to satisfy himself as anything-- and cleans him up before tucking him back into briefs. 

Cecil returns the favor with his usual desperation to please, post-orgasmic haze pushing him to seek out more Carlos, more touch and more scent to coat himself in as if he could carry the encounter with him always, cloak himself in the sensation of Carlos' skin beneath his fingertips and his tongue. He wants so badly to be good, and every little groan encourages him. 

Carlos cleans him up yet again, his face this time, once they're done, sets him back on the foot of the bed so that he can be petted at and praised, until he is once more complacent.

"You ready to keep going?" Carlos asks him.

The scene, after all, has hardly started. He isn't used to pushing the scene past sex. Most times one of them will get off, if not both, and that usually marks the end neatly. This time, though, he'd had a plan, wanted to take Cecil out properly and do things for him, wanted to dress him first-- a surprisingly difficult task, for a man who owned so many clothes. He'd just wanted to touch so badly, after waking up with Cecil nestled firm against his morning erection, after a shower together with hands traveling his skin... 

"I can." Cecil nods, his smile bright. "I really want to, I'm not done, I'm not dressed, I mean..."

"Good. You're so good, baby, and I'm going to make sure you have fun today. I'm very happy with you."

Cecil just keeps nodding, and smiling, as Carlos returns to the closet once more. He finally picks out a linen pant, pale and lightweight and artfully loose and rumpled when Cecil pulls them on. They make him look breezy, beachy, and Carlos is struck by an odd thought, that it is a shame the waterfront has no water to look out on. Cecil would look right at home by the sea in those pants. 

Cecil has a new tunic, and that decides Carlos as far as shirts go-- it's dark blue, with silver embroidery at the cuffs and placket, thin and silky and reminiscent of a night sky. The perfect complement to Cecil's socks, and it feels beautiful to the touch.

"Tell me about when you picked this out."

"Oh! The other day, at the little religious bookstore in Old Town?"

Carlos nods, though what Cecil calls a 'religious bookstore' is what Carlos would have called 'New Age' before Night Vale. A lot of books about druids and witches and various old myths, and candles and little carved fetishes, and a rack of silk scarves and tunics in the back.

"Well, it was on sale, and I was there picking up a press pack for a little community event they're hosting-- they're one of the local businesses hosting it-- and I said to myself 'Cecil, Cecil, if you don't get this, you'll regret it later'. Do-- do you think I would have?"

"Oh, definitely." He smiles, stroking Cecil's cheek. "You look amazing. That color is good on you... and I love how it sits on your shoulders. It's... elegant."

"Elegant!" Cecil repeats, with the little laugh he always gets when he doesn't know what to do with some bit of praise or other, when it does not fit into one of the boxes he's made for it.

Carlos likes that laugh, the modesty and the blush, the way Cecil no longer protests new bits of praise. Carlos loves when Cecil's reactions diminish even more, when he can see new compliments find a home in Cecil's self-image. He loves the first time a compliment that once came with a bewildered laughing echo is accepted with a pleased smile instead.

The sun is out in full force, and while Cecil gets his shoes, Carlos finds a hat, broad-brimmed natural straw with a deep blue band, something old-fashioned looking. Something that looked as if it was made for Cecil's outfit, and he presents it with a flourish.

"Thank you, Carlos." Cecil leans in, and Carlos kisses his cheek before placing the hat on his head. 

"You're welcome, baby." Carlos offers an arm. "Now... what you have to ask yourself is, do you want ice cream?"

He knows it's a rhetorical question when he asks it, but the way Cecil's face lights is more than worth the asking.


	7. Cock Worship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And back to the smuttier side... This chapter takes place a fair bit earlier than many, pre-collaring, with Carlos still a bit of a baby Dom finding his way.

Carlos feels silly, but Cecil had asked, with big, wet, wide-blown eyes, to be allowed to. Allowed to! It was a hard thing to say no to, Cecil shuffling down off of the sofa and kneeling at Carlos' feet to ask... That, Carlos acknowledges, had rapidly become a major weakness. Anything Cecil asked for from the floor, looking up through his lashes and resting his chin tentatively on Carlos' knee, was hard to resist. Cecil always looked ready to be refused, when he asked for something new, and Carlos couldn't stand disappointment he could prevent. There were things he had to say no to for his own sake, things he wasn't ready for and things he perhaps never would be, but anything he could say yes to, when Cecil scrunched himself down to grovel for it, Carlos feels the need to say yes. To give Cecil the things he wants, because Cecil is so sweet, so undemanding even when he pleads, makes himself so small in supplication. 

And it's a rush to see Cecil so happy after even a single word, the power his yes has to transport the other man. He thinks that must have been one of the early signs, that this was something he was doing for both of them, not just for Cecil. The way it went to his head and to his heart to have Cecil's grateful smile beaming at him, hundred-watt, for the smallest things. To see him blissed out past coherence and know it was because he had made it so. 

He doesn't feel very sexy, standing naked in the bedroom, nerves getting the better of him and leaving him soft even with Cecil kneeling-- equally naked-- before him. He's not unmoved by the sight, not at all, but the physical results feel slower in coming than he thinks he would like. Cecil had practically begged permission to worship his cock, he feels it should be hard, feels it's more impressive that way. Definitely more impressive than when those nerves have him drawn in, and he hates that he is at his smallest when Cecil needs him at his best.

Cecil is not put off, devours Carlos with his eyes just as hungrily as he ever has. Maybe moreso. He kneels, hands splayed on his own thighs, one finger drumming a little anticipatory tattoo as he holds himself back from touching without permission. While it is a slower process than Carlos would like, the sight of Cecil's undiminished enjoyment eases the tension, and Cecil sucks in a sharp gasp and licks his lips at the sight of Carlos lengthening just slightly. 

He's still soft, but at least the blood is flowing in the right direction, even if it's slower than he wants, and when Cecil looks up to his face with a clear question in his eyes, the pupils already so big, so dark... 

"Right here, baby." Carlos nods, cupping the back of Cecil's head with one hand. He wraps the other loosely around his own cock, and Cecil makes a strangled noise and grips his own thighs tight to keep himself still. "Good boy, you just wait and you'll get what you want. It wouldn't be special if I didn't make you wait, would it?"

That's the right tack, and Cecil shivers once and smiles up at him in grateful adoration, the kind Carlos could easily get high on. The kind he could lose himself in, if one of them didn't need to stay found. 

"No, Carlos." Cecil agrees. "I'll be good."

"Tell me what you want?"

"I want your cock."

"Tell me how, Cecil." He gives Cecil a little squeeze, where he cradles the base of his skull. "I want to hear you. I want you to say it."

"I-in my mouth?"

"Oh?" Carlos challenges. He can feel the heat and the weight of himself, limp yet but filling out, and he teases Cecil with a brief touch, the head of his cock just light against Cecil's lower lip for half a moment, feels himself twitch in anticipation, firming up slowly but surely.

Cecil moans and licks his lip. "I do. I want to taste it. I love sucking your cock. It feels so big when I have my lips stretched around you, when I can feel you slide back into my throat... so big."

Carlos strokes his thumb gently over Cecil's hair and lays the head of his cock against Cecil's lip again. 

"You can't lean forward." He orders, his other hand moving to Cecil's cheek, touch firm. "But you can taste what I give you."

The moan that vibrates right through him is gratified, desperate, and Cecil sucks and licks at him as best he can, until Carlos is fully hard, springing up out of his reach. 

"Please? More?" Cecil whines, pressing his cheek to Carlos' palm. He doesn't chase after what he wants, but he looks up with a lovely edge of need, and Carlos looks down to see his nails digging into his legs as he forces himself to hold still.

"Give me your hands." He orders, dropping his from Cecil's head. 

Cecil's mouth works soundlessly a moment, the request breaking him from his single track, forcing him to pull back from his focus to process. Carlos' own hands are outstretched for him, palms up, and he manages to pry his from his thighs, to lift them, shaking, to Carlos' keeping.

"Good boy." Carlos nods, just holding them a moment before speaking again. "I know you told me what you want... but before I give you more, I want to hear why you want it. Why you need it. You gave a good start already, but I know you can do better for me, can't you, baby?"

"Yes, Carlos." Cecil nods in return, breathless, smiling at the chance to prove himself, his devotion and his good behavior. "I want to please you. And I want it because... it makes me so hot, to have your big, hard cock... to taste you, feel you with my tongue... to feel you with all of me. I wish... I wish I could..."

He recognizes the stammering for embarrassment, and bends, lifts Cecil's hands to his lips to be kissed. "You can tell me, baby. What do you wish you could have?"

"It's... not something you can really give me." Cecil blushes. 

"Tell me anyway."

"I wish I could shrink down sometimes, so I could wrap all of myself around that cock and feel it against my whole body." Cecil breathed the words out fast, head ducking down, shoulders hunching up protectively.

"Would you like that?" Carlos places one of Cecil's hands on his hip, so that he can reach forward to brush his fingers through Cecil's hair. "You want me rubbing all over you?"

"Y-yes?" Cecil lifts his head, trepidation slowly easing, leaving his eyes at Carlos' warm smile. "Yes."

"You be a good boy for me and we'll work something out, even if you do have to stay regular-size." Carlos promises. "Since you like my cock so much."

"I love it." Cecil sighs, barely stopping himself from leaning forward. 

"Tell me? I'll let you use one hand, but only while you're talking."

Cecil smiles and nods, his hand drifting slowly from Carlos' hip to his cock.

"I like this here." He traces the vein up the underside with his thumb. There are smaller veins, visible so close to the surface of the skin, but this one is a ridge he can feel, following the shape of Carlos' cock exquisitely. None of them stand out from far away, but when Cecil is allowed close he can see them. Carlos' skin is dark, yes, but delicate, and there are places where the veins are darker. They swim in and out of visibility, the skin shifts over them, warm and soft and sensitive under Cecil's touch. "I like how it feels on my tongue. And how it looks."

Carlos strokes Cecil's hair again, giving him a nod. There's nothing he can do but give his approval, with that bright smile aimed up at him, in between intense gazes leveled at his cock. Cecil, kneeling and sweet, is a thing to be heavily approved of. 

"I love this." Cecil's thumb sweeps a circle over the head of Carlos' cock. "There's nothing else in the world like it. So soft, so smooth, the skin there, and the way it feels to have against my lips, and... how it goes dark, dark pink with little hints of purple and brown, just little hints, when you get really, really hard, really ready. It's a very attractive color. And how you shine when you pull out of my mouth before we're done and I can see you, can practically see your pulse you're so hard and so close and wet from my mouth. And you tell me to slow down because you say I'm too good, and Carlos, oh, Carlos, nothing is too good for you but I love to see how much pleasure I can give you, and how you look when you're so close to coming and it's because I've been good for you."

"You're very good for me." Carlos promises. "Do you want a taste now, baby?"

"Please." Cecil breathes, and he opens his mouth, hand leaving Carlos' cock to return, gently this time, to his own thigh.

There is an instant where it reminds Carlos of someone kneeling to take communion, and he feels the hot sting of blasphemous guilt that years away from home can't erase at having even had such a thought.

He releases Cecil's hand, to mirror its twin, stroking Cecil's forehead gently and guiding his cock to that waiting mouth. He gives him just a little at a time, as much as he wants to thrust in deep. Cecil responds so well to being teased with just a taste, after all, when he wants the whole thing. It's something Carlos has a handle on, something he holds onto. A lot of this is new, but he is picking up on the patterns, and he trusts his data. 

He pulls out, with a hand in Cecil's hair to keep him from following. Cecil's told him what he likes, after all, what he thinks of and wants and loves. And Carlos trusts his data.

He rubs the head of his cock across the apple of one cheek, smearing spit and precome across Cecil's skin, and Cecil groans, eyes half-lidded, rolling back. He guides Cecil to kneel a little higher, so that he can rub against his collarbone next, leaving another little wet trail.

"Do you want more?" He asks, his own voice husky, and Cecil nods and whimpers for him, for more, his head heavy in Carlos' hand, turning to nuzzle at his arm, the delicate skin up the inside, needing more contact in the long moment Carlos makes him wait. "Do you want to take me all the way now, baby?"

"Please?" Cecil swallows hard. "All, all of you, please? Filling my, my throat, I want that, I want to take all of you. Want to feel like it's almost too much, too hot and too big and so, so hard, I want... I want to make you come."

"Yeah?"

"It would make me... very... very... happy." Cecil nods again, and Carlos doesn't think he's ever seen his pupils so wide. "To know I'd been... of service, to such a perfect cock."

"You provide excellent service." Carlos chuckles warmly. "Why don't you get to it, baby? You go ahead and do what you think is best, and I'll let you know. I think you know what to do."

"Thank you, Carlos." Cecil breathes, and then he has Carlos, swallowed to the root. The vibrations as Cecil moans around him, the rhythm of his swallows, the suction and the wet heat, all that is enough to send Carlos over. It's knowing what it also does for Cecil that makes it fantastic.

He moves Cecil, on quivering, weak legs, to the bed after. He barely has to wrap a hand around Cecil's painfully hard erection, and about three strokes take him all the way through his own orgasm. 

He gives himself a minute, to lie next to Cecil and to stroke his belly. It heaves with gulping breaths and convulses with the twitch of so many muscles, and Carlos loves feeling Cecil calm under his touch, feeling him regain some equilibrium. He is shaky after, and that will last a while, will come and go in fits and starts, it is still hard for Carlos to anticipate how long. But the twitching and the heaving both ease. 

"You were very good, Cielito." Carlos whispers the words against Cecil's temple. "You're so good... you have a wonderful way with those lips and that tongue. Thank you for being so good for me."

"Thank you." Cecil echoes, his voice weak, distant and trembling and very, very glad. "For giving me... this."

"I'm going to get you cleaned up, okay? You wait right here for me, don't move an inch and I'll be back soon to take good care of you. You deserve it."

Cecil grins over at him, gaze unfocused, and nods. At least, Carlos takes it for a deliberate nod, and leaves the bed to get a warm washcloth and a clean towel.

He starts with Cecil's face, wiping his cheek and around his mouth before patting him dry with one corner of the towel. 

"I love you." He murmurs, his thumb resting over Cecil's lips. "Look at you, sweet guy... you gave me your all tonight, didn't you?"

"Always." Cecil smiles, the word slightly distorted against the thumb holding his lip down. 

"That's right." Carlos moves on to wipe at Cecil's clavicle, to dry that as well, to clean Cecil's own come from his belly. "You're always good for me. You always give me everything you've got. That's why you need me to take care of you after, you just give me everything... You just keep being sweet for me, and I'll take good care of you, just like you deserve."

There are little red half-moons left dug into Cecil's thighs, where he'd gripped himself against temptation, and Carlos checks carefully to see there was no broken skin, before kissing each one. 

"Cielito, be careful with yourself." He admonishes gently. "For me, okay?"

Cecil nods, and shakes a little, and Carlos wraps him in his fuzzy blanket and a firm hug. 

"Rest a little while with me. You earned that. We'll get up and get ready for bed in a little bit, when you're ready... just lean your head on my shoulder right now and go ahead and close your eyes if you want to, Cecil baby..." He presses kisses to Cecil's temple, his cheek, up in his hair. "You've been so good, and now you get to rest. And I'll have you."


	8. Corset

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'd been undecided as to whether this would be here or its own thing, and I really just couldn't wait... So. Cecil gets a corset.

"I wanted to get you something special." Cecil settles himself at Carlos' feet, bringing out a small box. "For a whole year together. And I thought, if you wanted to take me out, then I couldn't make a special dinner for you as a gift, and... I knew there were a lot of things I could have gotten you that you'd have liked, and they'd have been fine for your birthday, but they weren't really romantic, and I wanted it to be romantic! Anyway, I-- I hope you like it."

Carlos strokes Cecil's head, smiling. "I'm sure I will. And I hope you like yours. I have it in the office closet, do you want me to go get it or--?"

"Open yours first?" Cecil's answer comes, quick and breathless, before Carlos can finish asking, and he gives Cecil's nose a gentle tap.

"Okay."

It's a key fob, heavy and silver, with a triskele etched onto one side, and 'For Carlos' on the other. The key hanging from it isn't to their home. It isn't to anything that Carlos can think of-- it looks ancient, iron. It looks as if there is a door somewhere that it could slot into and unleash terrible, wonderful secrets, if he could only find it. 

"That's to my heart." Cecil whispers. There is no teasing mirth to the statement, only the gravity of a man absolutely serious, and Carlos thinks that's only right. "You can put your other keys on it, though."

"Maybe I will. But I'll be very careful not to lose this one." Carlos promises. 

"It will always come back to you." Cecil kisses his knee.

"Well, that's very good of it. And I think it's a very romantic gift, thank you, Cecil. Now can I go and get your present from down the hall, baby?"

Cecil nods and scoots back to let Carlos up, smile bright. Carlos has dropped little teasing statements here and there about the gift-- that it was a good one, that he'd been planning it a long time, that he hoped he was right in thinking it was something Cecil had wanted for a while. Cecil hadn't tried to find out ahead of time, wanting the surprise of opening something so anticipated. Carlos comes back from the office with a glossy white box, so very like the one Cecil had pulled out from under his bed so many months ago to share his folders and his cuffs and his secrets and his wants. This one is tied with a wide satin ribbon, deep purple, the bow at the front far less lopsided after months of practice in tying them around Cecil himself, and Carlos' expression is a mix of hope, anticipation, a dash of worry, a touch of... pride, Cecil thinks. A big scoop of fondness. 

He unties the ribbon carefully, wanting to stretch the anticipation out as he spools it carefully around a hand and sets the wound-up loop on the coffee table before lifting the box lid. 

There, nestled in lavender tissue paper, is a corset. White coutil with neat lines stitched down it, everything lovely and precise, and Carlos' face relaxes into a grin at Cecil's gasp, at the way he lifts the garment reverently, almost disbelievingly. 

"Oh... Oh, Carlos. For me?"

"Just for you."

The lacing up the back is purple, Cecil notices, and he beams up at Carlos, hardly able to contain himself. 

"Would you like to try it on?" 

Cecil nods, and Carlos helps him to his feet, and guides him back to the bedroom. He strips Cecil of his outfit, hanging the formal tunic up carefully to be dry cleaned. 

"It's beautiful." Cecil sighs, his fingers skating over it, tracing the lines that the stitching has created. "Thank you, Carlos."

"You put it on and I'll adjust the lacing in the back for you, all right?"

He nods again, unhooking the busk at the front and slipping it around himself, doing the hooks back up carefully with fingers wanting to shake. Carlos moves behind him, taking the laces in hand. The corset wasn't meant for waist training, though it has the effect of compressing the slight spare tire and love handles, giving Cecil a sleeker silhouette, the cut of it making a straight line just below his chest, doing nothing to push the slight softness there around, to cover. Carlos likes that. There is an uncompromising masculinity in the shape of Cecil's chest and the scattering of hair across it, and it is a nice counterpoint to the corset.

"Let me know when it's just right, okay, baby?"

"Okay." Cecil smiles, takes a deep breath. When it's just tight enough to feel good, like a big, even hug, he gives a little nod and raises his hand. "There."

"Comfy?"

"Perfect."

Cecil turns and Carlos kisses him, slow and deep. 

"You're beautiful." He gives Cecil a gentle nudge back towards the bed. "Get comfy for me, I want to take a picture, is that okay? So I can show you how it looks on you?"

Cecil nods, grins, arranges himself in the center of their bed. Carlos takes pictures, from several angles, of Cecil lounging, lying back, smiling seductively and shyly in turns. He hands his phone over and lets Cecil scroll through them all, drinking in his delighted laugh.

"Wow! That's me." Cecil shakes his head. "I... almost feel like I must look like someone else."

"You look like you to me. Sweet, sexy, Cecil."

"You're too good to me." Another little head-shake, and a very warm smile. "I love it."

"Good. I love it on you. And I love my present."

"It's nothing like this--"

"Cecil. I love my present. I am going to use it every day of my life. I have your heart. That's pretty great."

"You know... the body goes with it." Cecil teases, laughing again when Carlos attacks his throat with kisses.

"Oh, does it, now? Do I get to have my way with this body?"

"Please!"

"You look so good tonight... Then again, you looked good all night. At dinner, I wanted to just lean across the table and eat you up." Carlos grins against him, nips at delicate skin between bits of praise. "Seeing your collar peeking out of that tunic, knowing you were all mine... knowing you'd be all mine as soon as we got home, and I could do this to you!"

He digs his fingers in, one up under Cecil's arm and one down under the waistline of the corset, tickling at the tiny sliver of belly he can reach, and Cecil squirms and squeals. 

"Not fair!" He gasps. "You were... supposed to want my body... for sex!"

"I want you for so much more than that, though." Carlos laughs, kissing his forehead and stroking him gently until he calms, though Cecil still pouts, does not roll into his touch. "I can't resist sometimes, you make such cute noises when you get high-pitched. It's so different from your radio voice... Not that I don't adore that. Now... who's my baby?"

Cecil relents, in spite of himself, scooting closer and failing to fight off a smile.

"Who's my sweet, fuckable baby?" Carlos presses, and that does it.

"Me, Carlos, I am!" Cecil scoots in even closer, still on his back, working himself up into Carlos' touch.

"That's right." Carlos lifts his hands up to be kissed. "You are. You look so good right now like this... Look so good spread out for me, wearing your new present..."

"I really love it." He sighs.

"Good. I like getting you things you can wear for me, and I know you've thought about having this a long time, haven't you? Is it everything you dreamed about having, baby?"

"Yes, Carlos. It's wonderful. It fits just right."

"I'm glad." He releases Cecil's hands, leaning over him and tracing a meandering line from one shoulder down to Cecil's chest, looping aimlessly awhile before slipping down to deliver a gentle tweak to one nipple. "Not too tight?"

"No, just right." Cecil grins, gives a little jerk and a wriggle at the tweak. "Mm, are you going to tease me?"

"For now." Carlos chuckles. "You're just so sensitive and I like working up a flush on you..."

"... No more tickling, though?"

"I don't know, what's the magic word?"

Cecil cocks his head to one side. "Which one?"

"Just say 'please'." Carlos snorts.

"Please, Carlos? Please?"

"Okay. No more tickling. Not on purpose. And you'll be good for me, won't you?"

Cecil's nod is enthusiastic, his eyes wide. "Yes, Carlos, I'll be so good!"

"Good... Just lie here a sec for me, let me get undressed."

Carlos leaves the bed, and Cecil lifts himself up on one elbow to watch Carlos strip, reaching out to him once he's done.

"Impatient." Carlos laughs, pulling him into a hug, his fingers carding through Cecil's hair as his chest is snuggled into with a soft sound. "Oh, you are in a sweet mood, baby, I hope I didn't tease you too much. You just want to be held, don't you?"

"I just love you so much." Cecil confirms, words smothered in Carlos' chest. 

"There... there, I've got you. Of course. And I love you, Cielito. Do you want your Carlos to take good care of you tonight?"

Cecil nods, and cuddles closer. 

"Good, you're so good, of course you do. You need me, don't you? Poor baby, when I think of all the time you spent without someone taking care of you. I'm here now, and I'll always take good care of you, you know that, don't you?"

Cecil kisses his chest, before raising his head, his eyes bright and damp and his smile setting off a sharp new ache underneath that just-kissed spot. 

"Yes, Carlos." 

"Good. You're good, Cecil, and you deserve it, for behaving so nicely for me, and for being so sweet. And you look so good, and you feel so good... I'd like to take a nice long time tonight making love to you. And I know that's what you'd like, too, isn't it, baby?"

Cecil lights up, bright as ever, and he doesn't protest the brief distance when Carlos lays him out on his back and moves away to look at him again. 

The distance never lasts long. Soon, Carlos is sliding a pillow under his hips, Cecil lifting himself up obediently, opening his legs and pulling one up to his chest. 

"You want this?" Carlos smiles, his fingertips trailing up Cecil's inner thigh. "You know what I want to hear if you do, baby."

"Please..." Cecil moans for him, and the muscles beneath Carlos' fingers quiver just so, as if there's an electric pulse beneath Cecil's skin that follows in the wake of his touch. 

"Good..." Carlos sighs, leaning in to kiss a particularly tempting spot. He moves away just long enough to grab the lube from his nightstand, and returns to stroke Cecil's thigh comfortingly before uncapping it. "I'm right here, baby, I'm right here taking care of you."

Cecil nods, breathing in deep gulps. "I just need it, I just need it..."

"I know, and I'm going to give it to you. I'm going to give you all my loving, okay? You don't have to worry about that, it's all yours. Tonight has been so nice, hasn't it? You looked so lovely at dinner, by candlelight... We'll have to try eating by candlelight more often, won't we, baby? I know you liked looking at me, too..."

Cecil melts, and whether it's the slow prep or the sweet talk, Carlos isn't sure. Some combination of the two, he's sure, but he knows Cecil's expression is slack and pleased, knows Cecil's body takes his fingers easily. 

He doesn't crook them up to tease Cecil's prostate, as much as he loves making him arch off the bed. He doesn't give into the temptation that is Cecil's heavy, dark cock, and the pleasure it would be to tease it the rest of the way hard. He wants to draw it out, and doesn't want to risk overdoing it if he brings Cecil off too fast, doesn't want to overload him with sensation-- at least, not past a certain point, and that point is tricky and tends to change. Tonight, he doesn't think Cecil needs to be pushed that far. Tonight, Cecil just needs to be loved. 

That, Carlos thinks, is the best job of all.

He slides in slow, until he's buried deep, until he can lean in and capture Cecil's mouth with his own. Every roll of his hips seems to tease sound out of one of them, Cecil's deep moans and Carlos' barely audible grunts, and the heavy breathing between them both, Carlos' mouth warm and wet against Cecil's throat, Cecil's head thrown back and his hands clenching at the bedclothes. Carlos has one forearm planted on the bed to hold himself up, but the other hand roams, traversing the corset to get at the smooth skin above and below.

When Cecil's breath starts growing ragged, Carlos lifts himself up a little higher, his hand sliding between their bodies to wrap around Cecil's cock, to catch his release before it can shoot up across the new corset. He comes not long after, Cecil's body clenching around him, Cecil making such lovely noises, such a beautiful picture.

Cecil is pliant throughout cleanup, and drinks when Carlos brings a glass to his lips. 

"Hey, you." Carlos smiles down at him.

"Hey."

"Happy anniversary, Cielito... you were wonderful."

"You." Cecil shakes his head, his smile warm and wide and just a little unfocused. 

"Let's get your corset off and hanging up, before we sweat on it any more. Okay?"

Cecil lets Carlos remove it, and he can feel things relax, that the Corset had held into place. He misses being held in by it, but soon Carlos has him wrapped up in his blanket, and in Carlos' arms. Safe and snug... he lets out a long, low sigh.

"I'm glad I was on the right track with that present."

"Mm." Cecil nods. 

"And yours is very special to me, too. You're very special to me."

Cecil leans up and kisses Carlos, hitting the corner of his mouth and smiling sheepishly. Carlos merely leans down to give Cecil a more centered peck. 

"Come on, my sweet, cozy Cecil..." Carlos chuckles, tugging some of the covers up over himself. "Just this once... if you want to fall asleep straight away, we'll just brush our teeth in the morning. Just this once."


	9. Examination

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cecil has a favorite game...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one actually takes place right before the previous chapter-- or, a little while before.

"Cecil..." Carlos places his hands on Cecil's hips, nosing at the back of his neck. "Baby... Do you want to play test subject again?"

His arms are full of a very enthusiastic Cecil as soon as the question is out, a sudden kiss taking his breath away, and when Cecil draws back, it is with a look that is half apologetic little smile and half hopeful grin. 

"Oh, please?"

Cecil never asks-- not outright-- for that one thing. It's not generally a turn on for Carlos, and Cecil would rather they both enjoy themselves, but he does love it, and Carlos is just so irresistible in a lab coat and a serious expression. Having it offered, though... he can't help but jump at it when it's offered to him.

Carlos doesn't mind, even if the roleplay aspect for him is less exciting fantasy and more ethical violation... he has his own reasons for offering. It makes Cecil happy, which is a good enough reason on its own, but it also gives him a convenient excuse for getting measurements, and he hadn't thought to save them all when it had all been cover for measuring Cecil's neck. To get what he needs for ordering a well-fitted corset, he'll need to take them all over again. It might as well be fun for Cecil. 

Once he has everything he needs laid out, Carlos shrugs into one of his lab coats and puts on the most professional expression he can manage, when faced with an excited Cecil, before snapping on the powder-free vinyl gloves from the kitchen, glad he'd invested in them. He doesn't use them often in the kitchen, but they add a little something as long as Cecil wants him to play scientist. 

"Mister Palmer. Thank you for your time. Could I get you to undress, please?"

"Of course." Cecil scrambles to comply, stripping down to his underwear and folding his clothes carefully, setting them on the table. "Anything for Science."

"Well, science appreciates it." Carlos replies lamely. He hadn't come up with much of a script-- he still isn't sure how much of one he ought to have, but at least he's had more practice in being what Cecil needs. "I'm just going to start by taking some measurements, if you don't mind. It's a very important part of science. We'll be able to determine where you lie in regards to average, and that's going to be important when we start collecting data."

Cecil nods vigorously and moves to stand, ramrod straight, before him. At Carlos' direction, he lifts each arm in turn, holds still as Carlos takes exacting measurements and careful notes-- notes Carlos is determined to keep, this time, just in case he ever needs to buy something else for Cecil to wear. He measures every little distance and diameter he can think to, even the ones he doubts he'll need to use. And maybe someday he will... to pick out clothes, and to buy custom items, and as he measures each finger on Cecil's hand, he thinks maybe one day he'll want to be able to figure out Cecil's ring size, too. But that's not his main focus this time.

Carlos' touch is perfectly professional, his eyes don't linger anywhere they wouldn't if he was merely doing his job-- though this particular task has never been his job. Cecil is still half hard by the time he's finished, tenting his briefs and blushing when Carlos catches his eye after a pointed look. Time, he decides, to move from 'professional scientist' to 'pornographic fantasy'.

"Mister Palmer, I am disappointed." He clucks, flashing a very quick smile to rob the words of any sting. 

"Disappointed?" Cecil's voice goes up an octave, small and contrite.

"I can't get accurate measurements like this." Carlos shakes his head. "I'm afraid that for this study I needed your... resting measurements. My data is going to be useless if I can't get that."

"O-oh. I wouldn't want that." Cecil nods, then shakes his head, eyes wide. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to, um..."

"That's all right. It's a perfectly natural physical response." Carlos says calmly. "I can save those for last. Would you mind removing those for me?"

He gestures to the briefs, and Cecil wriggles them off, flush deepening, spreading down his throat and across his chest, a sign of arousal more than embarrassment. 

"Is there anything else you need?"

"Well, as long as you're... up for it, I can get measurements of you at your largest to contrast. Is this it?" He asks innocently, poised to take notes, and Cecil's pupils dilate just a little further.

"N-no. Not quite."

"It gets bigger?" Carlos allows a little interest into his voice. "Well, that I'll have to see, Mister Palmer. Would you mind stimulating yourself manually for me, just until you're fully erect?"

"Anything for Science." Cecil repeats, with a shaky breath. Carlos pulls one of the dining chairs up, and leans over to inspect Cecil's work as closely as possible, smiling at the groan that Cecil can't quite hold back when Carlos' breath ghosts over sensitive skin.

"Thank you, Mister Palmer." He grins. "I'll be sure to take very careful measurements."

He does, wringing out whimpers the entire time, feeling Cecil twitch and pulse in his hands. The lube and tissues are already laid out on the table, where he'd placed them along with the measuring tape, calipers, and novelty beaker shot glass. The first time they'd played the game, he'd swabbed the inside of Cecil's cheek with a Q-Tip and pretended it was going onto a slide, this time he has something a little more fun in mind. 

"I need to get a sample from you." He says, and Cecil opens his mouth obediently, but Carlos shakes his head. "Not a saliva sample, Mister Palmer. But... well, now that I have you fully erect and need to get you soft again..."

"Oh!" Cecil's hand flutters to his mouth, and he fights a grin. "I-- Of course. I'm sure I signed all the proper release forms and everything, for that. So of course you should, uh, should get that sample. From me. I've never given that kind of a sample before. I'm not sure how you...?"

"Why don't I help you?" Carlos offers. He doesn't think he has Cecil's gift for seductive purrs, but he does his best, and Cecil seems to appreciate it.

He squirts the lube onto one gloved palm, and Cecil hisses, lip between his teeth, eyes half-lidded. 

"Is this all right?" He asks, leaning forward to bump his nose gently against Cecil's hip, his voice and expression his own. 

"Very all right." Cecil nods. "Very, very all right."

"Good." Carlos grins, wrapping his hand around Cecil's cock. "I want you to enjoy your time as an object of study, after all..."

Cecil just groans. Carlos takes it as a very good sign.

"Very good, Mister Palmer..." He urges, doing his best to play the scene out without a script. It feels a little silly, yes, but as long as it's not silly to Cecil... "Oh, you are a remarkable specimen. That's right, get ready to come for me. You're doing just fine..."

The process of catching Cecil's release with the shot glass is a little awkward, but he catches enough, and makes a show of humming over it thoughtfully and writing nonsense notes left-handed to avoid smearing lube and come across them.

"Good..." He coos, kissing Cecil's belly and stripping off the gloves at last. "How was that, baby? You have fun?"

"Uh-huh." Cecil nods, grinning dazedly down at him. "A lot of fun. Thank you, Carlos."

"You're very welcome." He stands and kisses Cecil's lips, strokes his face and hair. "I'm going to get you cleaned up while you're still standing."

Cecil snorts, and then Carlos can't help laughing either, as he sees to Cecil's softening cock. 

"You're awful." He shakes his head, kissing Cecil's neck. "Come on, Cielito, couch. Before you fall over, huh?"

Cecil lets himself be led, stumbling just a little and grinning at himself. Carlos wraps him in a blanket and gets him situated, before cleaning up after the rest of the scene. He comes back with Cecil's collar, buckling it into place. 

"Better, baby?"

"Mm-hm." Cecil nods. "Like wearing it."

It didn't fit under his work clothes, of course, and Carlos hadn't put it on him before acting out a scene in which Cecil had a part, a part that would not wear a collar, but now that that was over, he felt more at home with it on, with Carlos' hands stroking the skin above and below in gentle little touches. 

"You look sweet all bundled up and wearing it." Carlos promises, kissing his brow. "I'm going to go pick you up some pizza, and you're going to watch TV until I get back, okay? I won't be long. I'll call in our order before I drive over. Does that sound okay?"

"Okay." Cecil nods. "If you won't be long."

"Not long at all. You're so good for me, though, baby. Gonna get you a little treat. Sounds good for a late supper, right? Mushrooms?"

"Anything you want."

"I want you to like it. I can always get two kinds if I have to, but we both like mushroom, right?"

"Right." Cecil nods again, and leans into Carlos' touch. "No pepperoni. Maybe sausage... or spinach... no peppers tonight?"

"No pepperoni and no peppers tonight. Mushroom, sausage, spinach." Carlos repeats, giving him another kiss and putting the television on. Cecil seems less than focused, and so he puts the Science Channel on. "Here. This will just keep you company until your favorite scientist gets back home."

"Sounds good." Cecil beams, and he melts into the cushions while Carlos phones in their order, utterly content.


	10. Following Orders

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (set somewhat early on in terms of Carlos' experience as a Dom-- at the point where he knows what he's doing enough to be comfortable enough to do it, generally, but would still count himself a 'baby Dom'. And possibly the only chapter that will actually tie itself into current canon events, in that it is set just post-'Missing', so... soft spoiler alert for that)

Carlos is waiting in the hallway of Cecil's apartment building, when he finally makes it home, and the speed at which he'd been dragging his feet quickens. He throws himself forward into Carlos' waiting arms, into what turns out to be a very hard hug indeed.

"Hi, Carlos." Cecil greets dully, voice muffled in a shoulder.

"Baby, I worried..." Carlos kisses him, again and again, his cheeks and chin and forehead and nose, until between the two of them they get through the door and into the apartment, and Carlos finds his lips at last. "Oh, Cecil, you scared the hell out of me. I was listening... Cecil, what's--? I mean-- Are you going to be okay?"

"No idea." He shrugs, with a helpless little laugh. There had never been any prophecy to tell him what he might do if he ever lost the radio station. He feels directionless, isn't sure whether or not he can continue to hijack the signal from the tower or not. There will be security, more helicopters... there is a part of him that wants to, that would if he was living with only himself to consider. It seems wrong to throw himself into that kind of danger without consulting Carlos, now, but he is not remotely ready to have a conversation about his future. He is not even ready to consider his present. 

"Do you need me to...?"

Cecil nods, and Carlos kisses him again, and straightens his tie. 

"All right, then. I want you to be good for me, Cecil, do you think you can do that?" He asks. "Think you can do everything I tell you, do it all right for me? Because if you're very good, you know you get a special reward. You can have anything I can give you, if you ask for it-- if you earn it. You want to earn it, don't you, baby?"

Cecil nods, feeling a weight slide from his shoulders. If Carlos will only tell him what to do, how to do it, will only take away the burden of considering anything at all beyond a nice and narrow scope, then maybe it will all be easier to face in the morning. 

"Good." Carlos smiles and strokes his cheek, pulling his hand away after letting Cecil lean into the touch only a moment. "Dinner... we need some dinner. Now, I bet a very well-behaved helper could make that happen for me, hm?"

"Yes, Carlos. Anything you want."

"That's what I like to hear."

Carlos looks through the contents of Cecil's fridge and cupboards, and pulls out a cookbook, and settles himself in a chair in the kitchen. The recipe requires a little modification, but for the most part, Cecil has the makings on hand for some good enchiladas. Carlos reads out every step in what he hopes is the proper gentle authoritative voice, peppering instructions with little bits of praise. 

"Now wash up and follow me." He orders, when Cecil has the whole thing in the oven at last, and Cecil hurries to obey, is thrilled to join Carlos in the living room only to see Carlos on the sofa, patting his knee. "Sit."

Cecil does, cuddling into him. "Good so far?"

"Very good. And if it turns out well, then tomorrow night I'll treat you to dinner, how's that sound, baby?"

"That sounds good, Carlos, thank you."

"Well, I want to take care of you. You're going to earn it, aren't you? You're going to be good for me and earn it?"

"Yes, Carlos."

"That's my baby." Carlos strokes his hair gently. "I have more for you to do tonight. And for everything you get right, I'll give you a little treat, how's that? You want to keep on going? Be good for me some more?"

"Very much, Carlos." Cecil's voice is breathy and soft, and he cuddles as close as Carlos will allow-- which for the moment, is very close indeed. 

"You're good at following orders. I like that. I bet dinner is going to be very good because of it. And you don't need to worry at all tonight, because I have more orders to give. But for now I just want you to sit with me, okay? Stay right in my arms until that oven timer dings. You can speak if you need something, and you can move a little bit if you need to get more comfortable, but unless I let you go, you're staying right here, right?"

"Yes, Carlos. Right here. I want to." He beams. "Very much. More than anything."

"Good."

Carlos strokes Cecil's hair, and his back, strokes his arm, his thigh, his face. He pets at everything he can touch between gentle squeezes. As long as Cecil is in his lap, in his arms, then Cecil is safe. He's home, safe from Strex, from robotic supervisors and yellow helicopters... in his own apartment where his orders come only from Carlos, and where they will only ever be for his own good, his own happiness. Not the awful kind of strange and manufactured happiness that his new employers-- if they even were still his employers at all- sold, but the realest kind of happiness Carlos could imagine on him, the sort that overwhelmed and transformed and had brought them closer together. 

He wants that happiness for Cecil, even if it can't drown out the bad forever. More than that, he wants to be able to prove to himself that Cecil is safe for another night. They both are. 

When the oven timer goes off, he helps Cecil back onto his feet.

"Go and get that out of the oven, it's going to set for a few minutes. While it does, I want you to come back here and kneel for me, okay, baby?"

Cecil nods, moving to the kitchen. Carlos tosses one of the throw pillows down for him before he returns, in a spot that will let Cecil cuddle against one of his own knees. 

"How does dinner look?" He asks, resting his hand on Cecil's head, guiding it down to his knee.

"Good. Smells really good." Cecil promises, eyes falling closed, smile gentle. 

"Glad to hear it. I want you to talk for me, baby... tell me about something good. Tell me about something you'd like."

"O-oh... what I'd like?"

"That's right. If you're good for me all night, tell me about what you think a good reward would be."

"Would... you make love to me?"

"Maybe." Carlos smiles, brushing the hair back from Cecil's brow. "I would do that, for a very good Cecil... if you told me how. And why. Tell me real nicely about what kind of reward you want... and if you're a good boy, and you describe it for me right, then you just might get it."

Cecil shivers and grins, blinking up at Carlos with bright eyes and widening pupils. "If I'm very good, I want-- May I have-- a blowjob?"

"Maybe." Carlos teases, grinning back down at him and brushing a thumb over his lips. "But you didn't say why."

"Because I like them." Cecil nips after him, pretends not to have missed on purpose with a sparkle of mischief in his gaze and holds fast to his calf. "I-- I would want... I would like it if you were slow with me, and gentle, and if you teased me just a little bit. Just a very little bit? Because sometimes, when I'm on my back and you're kneeling on the bed and bent over me, and you stop to tell me how... how good I am and how much you like me, I love it."

"Even when you squirm and whine at me and call me mean?" Carlos laughs. 

"Especially then. You know I don't really mean it, about you being mean... you're good to me. And I like it when you tease me. You tease me really sweetly, Carlos. And I like feeling... I like feeling like you're in control. And you'll take good care of me even if it's slow, because... because you're always careful to show me that you love me."

"Always." He promises, guiding Cecil to straighten up and receive a kiss. "I'll always be careful to do that, Cielito. You're my baby and I'm going to be very good to you, because you're very good for me. Isn't that right?"

"Right." Cecil nods. 

"Rest your head." Carlos smiles, checking his watch out of force of habit. The new one doesn't tell time in any way he can trust to be accurate. He wonders if he should have ordered Cecil to set another timer, but wait times aren't as crucial as cook times, and if he has to estimate and it's a little off, well, it won't ruin dinner.

He strokes Cecil's hair another couple of minutes, before withdrawing his hand.

"Up." He orders, and Cecil is up. "Good. Now go and serve us each a nice big helping. I'll meet you at the table."

Carlos gets them each a glass of ice water. He'd rather get dinner into Cecil sooner than make Cecil set the plates down and go back for drinks just for the sake of ordering him around. There will be plenty of time for more orders after. 

Whenever Cecil's troubles threaten to catch up to him, Carlos reminds him to take another bite, or a sip of water, or praises dinner and Cecil's ability to follow directions, doing his best to keep Cecil in the moment without any real orders. 

"Full?" He asks, when Cecil only pushes the last couple bites around his plate. Cecil nods in reply, and Carlos reaches over beneath the table to squeeze his knee. "Okay. Go brush your teeth and draw me a nice hot bath."

He moves the dishes to the kitchen and packs up the leftovers, leaving the dishes themselves-- one of those things he thinks maybe he should be ordering Cecil to do, in a bit. With that done, he follows Cecil into the bathroom, uses the spare toothbrush for himself and watches Cecil monitor the bathwater. He wishes, idly, that he'd thought to pack an overnight bag before running off to Cecil's place, but in the wake of that broadcast, he just hadn't had the presence of mind, had just been too worried to think practically about the way the night would-- optimally-- go.

When Cecil turns the taps off, Carlos beckons him in close.

"Good boy. Undress me."

It is one of Cecil's favorite orders to receive, and his eyes light up at it. He treats Carlos' clothes carefully-- more carefully than Carlos has ever treated anything of his own. Once every article is taken care of, Carlos gestures for Cecil's hand, using it as support so that he can step into the tub, can sink into blissfully hot water with a long, groaning sigh.

"Strip." He orders, with a grin. And before Cecil can comply too quickly, he makes an addendum. "Slowly."

Cecil's lower lip is caught between rows of teeth, as if he could bite down on a sudden gasp, and he makes a display of baring himself for Carlos' approval. 

"Good. Beautiful." Carlos nods, and his voice sounds rougher in his own ears. "Join me."

Cecil does, the water rising up higher around them. He settles between Carlos' legs and leans back into him, and makes sweet, soft, needy noises as Carlos washes him with more thought for touch than for effectiveness, a bare hand skimming his belly, a rough washcloth teasing over flat nipples. Carlos' own have never been sensitive, but Cecil... Cecil, when he reaches the right state, is a collection of erogenous zones just barely strung together, and everywhere that Carlos touches him, he reacts. 

"Okay, out." Carlos whispers, taking his hands away, and he can feel the little protest ripple through the water, the quickly-stifled whimper and the way Cecil only barely stops himself from following Carlos' touch.

"Yes, Carlos." Cecil corrects himself, climbing out of the tub. 

He merely stands there, his hands folded behind his back and head bowed, and Carlos takes the opportunity to towel him dry, before demanding the same in return and stealing a kiss. 

"You're being very good for me, baby." He smiles. "How are you feeling?"

"Good."

"Do you need to stop for tonight?"

"No." Cecil shakes his head. "I'm good. I feel good, I mean. I want to be good."

"You're very good. Jammies." He directs. "And slippers. No catching any chills on me."

"Yes, Carlos."

He watches Cecil dress, barely fumbling with the buttons of his pyjama top. The silk clings to still-damp skin, though there is no hint of showiness to Cecil, no air of performance.

"Don't suppose you have something I could wear? I don't mind sleeping naked, but... I wasn't planning on turning in just yet. And I shouldn't catch any chills on you, either."

Cecil brings over a soft terry bathrobe that practically swallows Carlos, belting it for him with a sweet smile. "Okay?"

"Very okay. Ready for your next order?"

Cecil nods, and Carlos kisses the end of his nose. 

"Good boy. The dishes are all lined up by the sink. I'm going to come in and check them when you finish, so get everything nice and clean. Squeaky clean, if you want that reward you asked for."

"Yes, Carlos."

He wanders in to watch Cecil at work on those, as well, sleeves of his pyjamas rolled up and a look of intense concentration on his face. Carlos reserves one water glass, refilling it once Cecil has finished, before making a show of running a finger over each cleaned dish and utensil.

"Good work. That's a job you can be proud of yourself for. Thank you, baby." He praises. "Now... I have one more thing for you to take care of... not too tired?"

Cecil shakes his head. Carlos thinks he ought to be exhausted after the day he's had, but then, a good meal and a hot bath probably helped to restore some of what was taken out of him, and he's sure that Cecil would rather exhaust himself and tumble into sleep than not tire enough.

"Follow." Carlos nods. He turns and walks to the bedroom without a backwards glance-- it's not necessary to check, he knows Cecil is following. He doesn't turn until he's got the water glass waiting on the nightstand for them for after.

When he guides Cecil's hands to the terrycloth belt, it's the only prompt needed for the robe to be opened. A hand on his shoulder and Cecil drops carefully to his knees. Carlos keeps his directions physical, this time, a touch to the back of the head to spur Cecil on, or to the cheek to halt him, pressure to ease him back, fingers in his hair to encourage a return... His praise is verbal, Cecil's name falling from his lips. Cecil, ever eager, swallows all Carlos has to give him before looking up, wide-eyed, for confirmation.

"You..." Carlos chuckles warmly, swiping at his lip with one thumb. "You'd look so innocent if you didn't have my come dribbling down your chin..."

It is an exaggeration-- there'd barely been a stray drop, and the second he has it wiped up, Cecil is licking his thumb clean. 

"Sweet, wanton baby." Carlos coos. "You do your job so well for me. All your jobs. Are you hard for me yet?"

Cecil nods, makes a soft little sound as he presses his cheek into Carlos' hand. "Yes, Carlos. I am... always-- every time you let me suck you off, it drives me crazy... and I can't get enough of you."

"Good. Because you've definitely earned a nice reward. Lie on the bed."

He offers Cecil a hand up, kneels next to him to push the pyjama top up and tug the bottoms down, to leave biting, sucking kisses across Cecil's abdomen, enough to raise a few little rosy marks. Ones that will be quick to fade, this time, ones that no one else will ever get close enough to see, ones that would hide beneath Cecil's clothing even if that was not the case. 

The blowjob he gives is leisurely, and as per the request, he pulls his mouth off of Cecil's cock every once in a while to offer a 'good' or a 'beautiful', and one 'delicious' that has Cecil all but keening, hips rolling up and meeting nothing and falling back to the bed with a defeated huff. Carlos strokes Cecil with one hand, as he gets closer, so that he can lap at precome, a move he knows teases. 

This time, it has Cecil coming across his face, and it seems like a small miracle that it doesn't go straight up his nose, but Carlos doesn't mind. He watches the rise and fall of Cecil's chest as he comes down, panting, red-faced and smiling. 

"Liked that one, huh?" He laughs. 

"Yeah." Cecil nods. "Thank you, Carlos."

"You're very welcome. Thank you, for dinner."

"My pleasure. Really." Cecil grins at him. "Want... want me to get your face?"

"Wait a sec for me." Carlos nods. He fetches a damp washcloth and hands it over to Cecil's keeping, holds still and lets Cecil clean him up in clumsy swipes. "Don't fall asleep yet. Drink some water, okay?"

"Okay." Cecil allows himself to be bundled up into Carlos' arms, his pyjamas fixed, and when Carlos tilts the water glass to his lips, he drinks, in long gulping swallows, the water cool and sweet. 

"Run to the bathroom before bed?" Carlos offers. Cecil grunts, sleepy, but rises just the same, to take his turn with one last task before bed. 

He returns to cuddle up to Carlos' side, with a yawn and a gentle kiss. 

"Thanks again, Carlos."

"You're welcome again, Cielito. You've been sweet for me all night and I loved having you."

"No, I mean it..."

"So do I."

"I mean... I mean, I didn't know what to do with myself tonight. If you hadn't been here, I still don't know what I would have done with myself. I wouldn't have made a good dinner, or done the dishes, or had a bath. Or gotten off." He snorts, softly, at the last one, and yawns again. "I wouldn't have done anything. I needed that. Thank you, for being what I needed."

"And I needed you. Needed you to sit in my lap, needed you to share a good dinner and a hot bath, needed you to join me in bed tonight... Cecil, I want you to know... I said I was scared, before. And it's true. Out of my mind. But... I need you to know how proud I am of you. You're wonderful. You're smart, and you care so much, about me and about your whole town-- our whole town-- and you... and you're so, so good. Not just for me, but maybe especially for me. And I will never, ever forget that. Now I have one last order, and that is to sleep tight, with me, and save the rest of your worries for tomorrow... okay?"

"Okay." Cecil nods, cuddling close with a hand over Carlos' chest. It is not long before he drops off into a deep and undisturbed sleep, after that.


	11. Housework

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carlos' turn to have a rough day, and Cecil's turn to get him through it with a Scene. 
> 
> Another non-porny chapter. There's some intimate nudity, but no erections, if that's any indication to you of how you'd rate it, I guess.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry it's been so long since I've updated anything! I'm visiting family over the holidays and haven't had writing time!

Cecil's phone buzzes quietly, but with an air of urgency, and he looks up from his notes for the show.

 

_How are things?_

_  
_He smiles, gives himself a little moment to trace a finger across the words before replying.

 

_Right on track how are things w you?_

_  
_There is a long pause, and then Cecil's phone rings.

 

"Carlos?"

 

"Not good." Carlos' voice shakes. "Fuck, I'm working so hard on this and it's all gone to-- Sorry. Sorry. I just... I didn't want to wait another half an hour before I heard your voice. It's... I'll get it. I'm just... It looks really bad right now, Cecil, that's all. I don't know where the money's going to come from if no one will look at this research, and I can't get a damn thing with my name on it taken seriously anymore. I thought it would all die down and I could... Who was I kidding, right?"

 

"Are you going to be okay?"

 

"I have to be. I mean, I have to be. I've got to hold this together. The team needs me. You need me. Not to inflate my own importance, but some days I think the town needs me. I can't... I can't..."

 

"Shh, shh... Carlos." Cecil whispers, stroking the back of his phone and willing the gesture to transfer somehow. "The project went well, didn't it?"

 

"The project was... Cecil, it was beyond my wildest dreams. But no one's looking at it!"

 

"Come home tonight."

 

He can hear the smile, tired as it is, when Carlos answers. "Where else would I go?"

 

"I've got to go now or-- Well. Do you know what you want for dinner tonight?"

 

Carlos groans. "I don't know anything anymore. Sorry... Sorry. I'll... Do you want something?"

 

"I'll take care of it. See you tonight."

 

"Have a good show."

 

Cecil hopes it will be. He won't be there to find out. He pre-records as much as he can, based on what he's been given for the day, careful not to make it too perfect, not to make it the polished messages he sometimes pre-records for sponsors and public awareness. When he ducks out early, with an intern there to cover for him if it comes to that, the show carries on seamlessly. He knows he didn't have quite enough, but the intern will plug in other recordings as needed, the weather will eat up some time... He has enough time for a quick trip to Ralph's, for the things he doesn't have, and he's sure Carlos won't mind if dinner isn't on the table when he comes through the door. It's not as if he expects it to be.

 

When he gets home, he hangs up his tie, undoes a few buttons, and puts his collar on, and then he starts on dinner. Pot roast and mashed potatoes would have been nice... but then, he'd never really had the time for proper pot roast, or he's never taken it, and he's sure meatloaf is just as hearty and comforting, really. He has _time_ for meatloaf. 

 

When Carlos opens the door, the house smells like food, and Cecil is in the kitchen doorway in an apron and with sleeves rolled up, backlit with golden warmth and smiling so sweetly. 

 

"Oh, you're home!" He glides to meet Carlos, takes his labcoat and hangs it on the rack by the door. "Good. Come relax while I finish dinner."

 

"Finish it?"

 

"I pre-recorded. Not everything. Enough." Cecil kisses his cheek. "I wanted to take care of you tonight. Is... I mean, do you... want that?"

 

Carlos nods, smiles, lets his hands fall on Cecil's upper arms and start to feel the warmth of contact, the warmth that gathers between them. He'd been spending too much of his time of late in the sharp air-conditioned chill of the lab, attending to the business end of things instead of out doing field work. The warmth is more than welcome.

 

"That sounds good to me, baby. Take care of me."

 

Cecil leads Carlos to the sofa, places him in his usual seat and kneels to take his shoes. Carlos hasn't been on his feet all day, he's about to protest, except he realizes he does so much pacing when he's stuck in the lab's little office looking at funding opportunities, and the little massage Cecil gives has him groaning as he slumps in his seat. It ends all too soon, and he can feel Cecil stand and move away, can hear him washing his hands in the kitchen, and the buzz of a timer. 

 

He lifts his head and cracks an eye open, watching Cecil ferry dishes to the table. Not a baking dish, he realizes, but a plated meatloaf, surrounded by sprigs of wholly unnecessary greenery. A plate piled high with seemingly nothing but the shimmer of chile lime butter, floating in thick stripes. Place settings, a pitcher of ice water, and then Cecil is bringing him a highball glass, wrapping Carlos' hand carefully around it and smiling encouragingly.

 

"I can make you a plate and bring it to you right here." He offers. 

 

Carlos downs a gulp-- brandy sour, apparently-- and nods. "That would be really... really nice."

 

"Of course." Cecil nods, leaning in to kiss his cheek and then hurrying to get a plate made. 

 

Carlos spreads the chile lime butter more evenly around his ear of invisible corn, so that he can clearly see where he hasn't yet bitten, which seems to be the trick to eating the stuff, at least as far as he's found. He's not sure how Cecil manages to look demure while eating invisible corn off the cob, but he does. He looks sweet and patient and so, so pleased to see Carlos eat.

 

"It's good." Carlos says, when he finally realizes he should have said something after his first bite or two, and not halfway through ravenously wolfing the meal down. Probably, he thinks, chewing more loudly than would be preferred, but by the looks of him, Cecil is in no state to complain about table manners. 

 

"I'm glad." He beams. "I made it special."

 

"Thank you, baby. Just what I needed."

 

"You skipped lunch?"

 

"... Maybe." Carlos says, and at Cecil's little frown, more concerned than reproachful, he tries to make a joke of it. "Why, what day is it?"

 

Cecil finishes his own smaller portion sometime after Carlos has finished devouring everything he'd been given, and he takes their dishes in. He returns to the sofa only long enough to give Carlos' shoulders a quick rub and to put the Science channel on TV. 

 

"You put your feet up and let me get everything cleaned up." Cecil purrs, and the idea is as seductive as the man offering it. Carlos relaxes, letting Cecil move his feet to the ottoman that's been scooted over, the coffee table slid out of its way. He lets the latest musings on M-theory wash over him.

 

Cecil feels an immense satisfaction in the sight of him, full and relaxing at last. He gives himself a moment just to watch Carlos loosen and breathe and smile, before he gets the food put away and starts in on the dishes. 

 

They have a machine, but he scrubs everything carefully by hand before loading each dish and utensil in. It's the process of it, the paying of special attention to each component of Dinner For Carlos. The prep, the execution, and now, the cleanup. 

 

"Relax a little longer." He whispers, passing by once that job is done. "I'll get the bed made for you."

 

"Mm, good." Carlos reaches after him, manages to land a gentle pat to Cecil's hip before he's out of reach. "Thank you, baby, that's good of you."

 

The sheets aren't beyond using, but Carlos deserves clean ones. After a hard day, he deserves the pleasure of falling into a bed that has been freshly made, and Cecil is going to give him that pleasure. Just stating the plan to himself is a little comfort-- he can do this for Carlos, can make his day this much better at the least. He can't make funding appear and he can't influence scientific journals or prestigious universities, but he can make dinner and he can wash dishes and he can put clean sheets on the bed. 

 

Most of their bedsheets have a fitted bottom sheet. He pulls out the one set that doesn't. He'd learned hospital corners in scouts-- it had been one of the potential bed-monster deterrents, and it was one he'd taken to, despite his creeping suspicion that it did nothing at all to dissuade the monsters under his bed and had everything to do with the sneaky teaching of domestic skills. 

 

Cecil likes domestic skills. As far as he knows, he always has. He remembers doing things for his mother, learning to cook and help keep house, and he knows she appreciated it because she had a way of looking through him and nodding distantly that had to mean he'd done right, and because she signed off on his report cards from Home Ec.. 

 

The hospital corners come out perfectly, though he will not call attention to them when Carlos comes in. 

 

They have a washer-dryer here-- no more trips to the laundromat, only down the hall, where there is a nice little alcove behind folding doors in their very own home, just across from the linen cupboard. It's something of a fantastic thought still, that hits him sometimes when he isn't expecting it, alongside the fantastic thought that is sharing a home with Carlos at all. 

 

In the morning, Cecil decides. After he fixes Carlos his breakfast and sends him off to the lab, before he needs to be into work. He'll do the laundry then. Carlos might want him a bit nearer, first, and he will not disappoint on that front.

 

He fills the bathtub, first, and leads Carlos in, strips him with careful fingers and an adoring gaze. He sees to it that Carlos' clothes are sorted into the proper hampers while Carlos soaks in hot water and lavender epsom salts. 

 

"Is there anything I can do, while you relax?" Cecil asks, feeling a build of fidgety energy that can only really be banished with an answer. With a fresh task to do, or the order to stay, as long as Carlos gives it to him.

 

"Come here, baby..." Carlos holds out a hand.

 

Cecil takes it. Pleasure and relief flood through him at the brush of lips across his knuckles, and the rasp of a stubbled chin. 

 

"Do you need a job, or do you need me?" 

 

"I need tonight to be perfect. For you." Cecil whispers. 

 

"Then I think you'd better stay right here." Carlos smiles. "Thank you, baby, I know you put a lot of work into dinner... I needed some taking care of tonight, huh?"

 

"I was happy to do it."

 

"I know. C'mere. Touch me."

 

Cecil kneels beside the bathtub, his sleeves still rolled up, and when Carlos releases his hand, he slides it down Carlos' chest, down into the water, back up to cup palmfuls of it over Carlos' shoulders, one side and then the other. He runs wet fingers through messy curls, untangling any knots he finds with the kindest touch he possesses. Still on his knees, he moves to the other end of the tub to coax one foot out of the water for a more thorough massage, and then the other. The ear he keeps to Carlos' groans and sighs is well-practiced, well-trained, and his touch is absolutely unerring. 

 

Finally, he helps Carlos out of the bath, dries him without a word, though his eyes beg one more question. 

 

"That's enough." Carlos shakes his head, with a rueful smile. "Sorry. I mean... thank you."

 

Cecil nods, kissing the jut of one hipbone before rising to his feet. "You've had such a long day. Such a hard time with all of this... Let me dress you for bed."

 

"Thank you, baby." Carlos kisses Cecil's forehead, and there is no hint of second place about the smile he gets for it. He asks, just the same. "Do you need to get off tonight?"

 

Cecil shakes his head. "I just need tonight to be perfect. For you."

 

"I know. Cielito, I know... you're doing such a good job."

 

Cecil pulls out the worn, frayed tee shirt that had once been navy and still bore flaking bits and pieces of a smiling beaver head and the name of Carlos' school. It's soft, so soft, and he can't help but skim his hands up Carlos' ribcage once the shirt is on, to feel the warmth of him through the soft fabric. 

 

"Pants." Carlos reminds, because he can't help but think Cecil would gladly leave him without.

 

Cecil smiles, nods, fetches them. Plaid flannel, orange and navy, and he kneels to guide Carlos' feet into the legs of them, and presses one more warm kiss to the crest of a hipbone before beginning to tug them up. Enjoys the time he is given to admire Carlos as uncovered as he is, though the shirt obscures too much perfect skin, too much dark curling body hair. 

 

It hides scars as well, though Cecil has those memorized. He never meant to memorize them, but it was unavoidable. He knows the precise shape of each and where it lies. 

 

They do not make Carlos' skin any less perfect, as long as he can remove them from the painful memories of the night they came to be. He puts that night from his mind in favor of looking over the play of light and shadow across one thigh and the hitch of the shirt where he has not yet pulled it down evenly, and Carlos' cock, soft. Attractive still, Cecil thinks. He knows the feel of it from its softest to its hardest, and the look. The taste. Expecting nothing, he can enjoy everything, can look on Carlos with as much lust as he would a classical statue. He is not on his knees for sex, tonight is not about sex. They will both get what they need, and he can divorce lust from love, to be only what Carlos needs. 

 

Still... it doesn't mean he doesn't appreciate the aesthetics, of Carlos' semi-naked form, and it is still a little shame to cover it all up. 

 

Carlos smiles down sleepily at him, though, and ruffles his hair and removes his glasses. 

 

"Come to bed?"

 

"I... should drain the bathtub..." Cecil hesitates. He does not want to disobey, if that's an order, but it had sounded like it could be a question, and the water is still sitting there...

 

"Okay. But I don't promise I'll be awake for you when you get back." Carlos returns his glasses and when Cecil stands, Carlos kisses his nose. 

 

"You sleep." Cecil nods, pulling back the covers. He beams at the grateful moan that escapes Carlos when he hits the bed. "I'll be here once everything is tidied up for tonight."

 

"You're so good." Carlos says, words half-muffled into his pillow. "Cecil... love you, baby. Come cuddle up when you're ready. Pick up my arm and wrap it around you if you have to, 'f I'm really out."

 

"I will, Carlos." He nods.

 

He won't run the laundry-- he doesn't want to be up late enough to switch it over, to get it out of the dryer, and the noise will disturb Carlos... but while the tub drains, he mops up any drips of water with the used towel, and cleans the countertop around the sink, before he readies himself for bed. 

 

Carlos' arm tightens around him, once he worms his way under it, and he falls asleep with the comfort of a warm breath stirring his hair, and the knowledge that Carlos is being well cared for in his time of need.


	12. Ice Cubes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cecil feels hot. So terribly, terribly hot. The temperature just seems so high, and his motivation to move, or think, or do anything seems so low. 
> 
> Carlos has a fix for that.

Cecil has been lying on the floor, periodically making pathetic, tiny noises, for as long as Carlos can recall. At least for as long as Carlos had been paying attention to anything beyond the work he was attempting to get done on his phone.

 

"Baby, what's wrong?" He set his phone aside, peering over at Cecil.

 

" _Hot_." Cecil manages, plaintive.

 

"Yeah. Kind of." Carlos nods, with a little shrug. It was hot enough that he'd been trying to do his work under the bedroom's ceiling fan, stripped down to boxers and a thin tank top. He still isn't sure when exactly Cecil had moved to lie on the floor, but he can see that his pyjama top is unbuttoned and spread open, and the bottoms are nowhere to be seen, just plain white briefs. "That's the desert for you, though. Atmospheric conditions lead to huge amounts of sun beating down on us all and being absorbed into the earth, and the lack of cloud cover-- Sorry. Hop up on the bed, okay?"

 

"Mneh." Cecil huffs weakly, the noise small and high.

 

Carlos tries not to let himself think about how silly it sounds-- how cute. How it resembles some kind of baby animal more than it does Cecil's usual smooth radio voice.

 

"Come on, baby, you want your Carlos to make you feel good?"

 

This does the trick, and Cecil pulls himself up, and flops onto the bed.

 

"I think I have a fever." He pouts.

 

"I don't know about that... I mean, it is pretty hot out." Carlos feels his forehead. He's a little sweaty, and warmer than usual, but then, Cecil usually bears up well under the desert heat, and he doesn't seem too flushed or glassy-eyed. "I think you're just hot and tired. What were you up to while I was catching up on work stuff?"

 

Cecil makes another pitiful little noise, waving a hand towards the door.

 

"Housework? Oh, baby, in this heat?" Carlos pulls Cecil's hand up to his lips. "No, no... you rest. You want to feel good?"

 

Cecil nods, his smile hopeful, and Carlos kisses his hand again before releasing it.

 

"You wait right there, then. I'll go get you something to make you feel good. Are you my baby?"

 

"Always." Cecil sighs.

 

"Right now, for a little something? I promise it'll cool you down."

 

"Usually you heat me up." He chuckles.

 

"Not this time." Carlos promises. "Just wait. I'll be right back."

 

Cecil nods, watching lazily as Carlos leaves the bed, and the room. When Carlos returns, it's with his red plastic salad bowl, and Cecil pushes himself up on his elbows for a look inside. Ice. He flops back to the bed, satisfied. Ice sounds like exactly what he needs. 

 

Carlos pops the first cube into his mouth, rolling it around before taking it between his fingers, and when he runs it across Cecil's lips, it's wet and melty and doesn't stick and pull at the skin.

 

"How's that feel?" Carlos purrs, tracing Cecil's lazy smile.

 

"Good."

 

"Good."

 

He runs it down the side of Cecil's neck, and across his collarbone, where the unbuttoned pyjama top allows, pushes it open wider so that he can explore Cecil's chest. He circles a nipple and watches it tighten up, and he rolls a second ice cube around in his mouth and spits it back out into the bowl before sucking at the teased-taut nipple. Cecil's moans are highly gratifying, relieved as much as aroused, and Carlos dabs the ice along in a dotted line down Cecil's abdomen and back up, to play with the other nipple. He goes back and forth teasing them both until Cecil pushes at his hand with a frustrated little sound.

 

"Oh, is that enough of that, baby?"

 

"Please, Carlos?"

 

"Okay." He presses a kiss over Cecil's heart, with his own ice-cooled lips. He skates the first melting cube all across heated skin until it's nothing, until goosebumps stand up all along Cecil's belly as the ceiling fan works to evaporate the icy water, and then there is the second ice cube, and Carlos traces it over Cecil's knee until he squirms. Carlos holds it in his own mouth and draws a long line up Cecil's inner thigh with it, and repeats the process on the other side.

 

The third ice cube, he sets down, so low on Cecil's hip that it rests over the fabric of his briefs instead of his skin, to slowly melt, to slowly form a wet spot that will stick, translucent, to the flesh beneath. When it's had some time to melt down, he moves it to the other side, and after a careful moment to gauge Cecil's reaction, he moves it again, to the center. Cecil has a lazy half-erection, and the ice provides a little shock to it, but once Carlos picks the cube up again, the blood rushes back. 

 

Carlos pulls Cecil's briefs off and spreads his thighs, slides between them. With the last chip of the melting ice cube on his tongue, he sucks one of Cecil's balls into his mouth. There's a yelp, and a fair amount of squirming, but there's also a hand in his hair.

 

"Don't stop?" Cecil gasps.

 

"Mm..." Carlos pulls off, licking a stripe up the underside of Cecil's cock. Not fully hard, but more erect than it had been, and he loves the way it twitches at his touch. "Mm, shirt off. And roll over for me, baby. And then I'll take care of you."

 

Cecil hurries to comply, as soon as Carlos is out of his way, and Carlos straddles his thighs, popping another ice cube into his mouth, getting it good and wet and holding it between his lips as he explores the back of Cecil's neck with it. He can feel Cecil shiver, just a little, can hear that shiver in his moans, and like so many things about the man, it's intoxicating.

 

He rubs one of the melting cubes in the bowl between his hands, and runs them up Cecil's back, before tracing the end of the cube-- now a sliver-- down his spine. It proves a highly repeatable process, turning into a chilled massage that has Cecil stretching out under his hands and shifting his hips.

 

"Don't think I don't know what you're doing." Carlos coos into his ear, uses a sliver of melting ice to trace his own name across Cecil's ass. "Humping the mattress like a dirty boy... I told you I would take care of you, I thought you were going to be patient."

 

"Hn... I'll be good." Cecil pants, as Carlos slides the last little bit of his dwindling ice cube to the cleft, to let it melt down in icy drips.

 

"Will you be?"

 

"Yes!"

 

"Okay." Carlos pops the last of the melting cubes into his mouth, climbing off of Cecil and giving his hip a tap.

 

Cecil rolls over at the prompt, gasping when Carlos' mouth descends upon him.

 

"Mm?" Carlos lifts an eyebrow.

 

"Good." Cecil nods, still struggling to draw a real breath. Carlos' mouth is blessedly cold against the throbbing heat of him, and Cecil isn't sure how that's a good thing, only that it is. Only that even the shock of cold isn't strong enough, doesn't last long enough, to bring him down. It just heightens everything. Without the usual heat that he is used to, everything about Carlos' mouth seems different, seems more intense. The texture of his tongue is a surprise, the rhythm he uses impossible to anticipate. Cecil is thrown off balance, and it's fantastic.

 

Carlos' hands, still slightly damp and icy-fingered, slide up his body, tweak at his nipples and dig in under his arms, and the chill of them is such a relief against the heat, now coming from within as well as from without.

 

Carlos swallows, when he comes, and moves to collapse beside him, sweaty and grinning.

 

"You?" Cecil offers, reaching for him with a trembling hand.

 

"I think I'd rather take a cold shower in a minute. You were right, it's hot today." Carlos chuckles. "I just wanted to treat my baby right. Did you have fun?"

 

"Yes." Cecil nods. " _Yes_."

 

Carlos leaves the bed, and comes back with a pair of chilly washcloths, to wipe them both clean of sweat, and Cecil still feels too warm for the cuddles he usually craves, when he has behaved himself well, been Carlos' baby, but Carlos strokes through his hair and dabs at his brow, and whispers sweet nothings until he feels his temperature drop.

 

"Carlos?"

 

"Yes, baby?"

 

"... I'm cold."

 

Carlos chuckles, and wraps Cecil in his blanket, and kisses his forehead just so.

 

"Well, I guess that's natural." He smiles, and Cecil feels just right at last.


End file.
